The Bang Chronicles: Firecrotch and Zombiefuck
by KinkyEyepatchShit
Summary: A compelling tale of one buttpirateginger and one sciencecracker in the struggle for acceptance,love,and friendship. JUST KIDDING! Heine and Badou are up to their usual junk in these 'domestic' tales. Enjoy the mayhem, I implore you. R&R loves!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Since you all know I'm rich and well off- OF COURSE I DON'T OWN DOGS. don't rub it in. assholes.

Notes: I'M BAAAAACK! DID YOU MISS ME? Its okay to disassemble your tributes to me, I'm here now. So. All I've got to say is, these are more….domestic…drabbles? Two and a half of which take place in the bathroom. One of my favorite places. Fun fact about the author, keep that in mind. If there are any new readers out there, welcome to my fuckedup tales. You don't have to read BCC to understand this, but hey, why don't you pop over there when you're done here, give it a read? I had a plan of what all was gonna say in this, but its much too long and stupid. So I'm shutting up now. ENJOY!

Summary: _Whoever said clichés don't work are lazy assholes who obviously don't have a moody albino butt buddy around. Stupid assholes. _

1. Albino Serenade 

He heard it before anything else, immediately picturing some dumbshit kid trying to impress his spazzy baby momma into part-custody of their whiny brat.

But the second the raunchy lyrics, as well as the familiar base line spilled in through the half-open window, all became clear. Well, most of it did.

The epitome of reluctance, limbs heavy, Heine found himself in one of those deja vu moments, fluidly rolling off the couch to make a bee-line for the window. [Oh, hello blood stain stupid ginger never bothered to clean up last time] He vaguely recalled a situation a few weeks back where he was summoned by that fuckwads retarded scheme for…_something. _Whatever. He dismissed it, pulling the curtain all the way open. [That guy may be stupid, but Heine'd give him credit this once]

That is until he peered out, pupils doused by streaming sunlight.

"…Maybe if I pretend I don't know him, he'll get bored and leave."

'_You are inclined to make me rise an hour early just like daylight savings time_

_Do it now_

_You and me baby, we ain't nothin but mammals, so let's do it like they do on the discovery channel_

_Do it again now_

_You and me baby, we ain't nothin but mammals so let's do it like they do on the discovery channel_

_Getting horny now' _

The eccentric fuck stood on the street corner- no, not exchanging hand jobs for cigarettes- [ He needed a bit more evidence besides the redheads usual aroma] a scruffy black boom box hefted high above his head and a determined quirk to his lips.

To say that Heine was content to just walk away and feign no association with the idiot was a no-brainer. Unfortunately that battle plan was quickly cockblocked repeatedly, figuratively speaking, when Badou began to call his name. Of sorts.

"Heeeeeeeeeeey! Dicklover! Don't act like you dun' know meeee!" The redhead broke off his tirade in order to pin a withering glare [ as if the eye patch PLUS the boom box wasn't intimidating enough] on the gawking pedestrians who paused mid-step and stared. It was just lady luck which allowed them to _not _become plowed by rushing traffic.

"Almost as bad as that one time when I fell asleep and you put your dick in my mouth and took a picture! Heyyyyy! 'member that? That's some fucked up shit right there! Anyway, if you let me in we can talk about this like mature adults. Whadda ya say, Q-Tip?"

A blur of black leather abruptly smacked him in the face. Namely right between the eyes, leaving a reddening, stinging mark. Badou had received his answer, indeed. In the form of a boot to the noggin.

"Shitmotherfuckingweak!" He snarled, blinking his lone teary eye up at the stoic-faced [No, he could tell that bastard was secretly pleased with himself. The _bastard_. Getting off on his fucking pain.] albino, there at the open window.

"That fucking hurt! Goddamn ass cookie! When I get up there you're gonna be _begging _me to fuck you! Ungrateful shit!"

Heine chose that moment to poke his head out the window, interrupting Badou's latest bitch-fit, and declared, "Get your annoying ass up here. You're making a fucking scene." [The one begging would be Badou, not him. Begging for _Mercy. _How _dare_ he disturb the peace? Again. _People he didn't even know, were staring! _Only torture would solve today's transgressions, Heine resolved]

Badous' thin lips split into a triumphant grin, and the pedestrians unease grew tenfold. [ Those closest to the redhead broke into a sprint, fearing for their lives, well being, and the unpleasantness that is sodomy] He crammed the boom box [still playing that god-awful fucktune] beneath his arm and hustled inside the apartment building, oblivious to the terror he had created in the span of ten minutes.

One pleasant elevator ride later, ["Whazzat? Yeah man, s'right. I'm getting some tang tonight."] Badou stood before Heine's door. He switched the deafening music off, adjusted his five-buck athletic cup, [never could be _too _careful, and he fully expected a foot to his cock in greeting] and knocked.

"Heine-chan! Open up!"

The stained [like, literally, thefuck _is_ that, grated cheese on there or some brains?] steel door whooshed open, and Badou was immediately greeted hello by way of a foot to his groin.

As Heine, unsurprisingly disappointed, set his bare foot back on Planet Earth, the redhead smirked and gave his crotch an affectionate tap, producing a dull hollow sound.

"Take that bitch! Came prepared."

Heine let something that could barely be considered as a huff escape his lips and after delivering a slug in the gut which left Badou breathless, led his dumbass partner inside. "Whatthefuckever, dip shit." The redhead smirked [ _phase one complete_, a voice in his head chirped] and settled the boom box beside the door; for safe keeping when things got heated. [in Heine's pants, another voice cheered, his smirk widened at that]

He caught up with Heine in two (un) graceful strides [almost tripping over the shitty excuse for a rug], grabbed the albino by the arm and spun him around, one hand coasting to the small of his partners back.

"Hey, what's the hurry Princess Icicle-Up-Ass? Since I take it you forgive me and all, we oughtta catch up on some kinky foreplay, eh?" The shiteating gonna-get-me-some grin that had wormed its way across his lips didn't even budge a smidge by Heine's irritated scowl. He was pretty much accustomed to the dickheads' shitty mood swings, at least when he was relatively [it was a stretch to call it even that] calm.

"I never said anything about forgiving you, asshole," Heine ground out, and if he had lasers for eyes, Badou was sure he'd be dust in the blink of an eye. Whatever was keeping the albino from ripping his arms off and throwing him out was a godsend, Badou briefly thought.

The hand at the small of Heine's back instantly glided down, cupping one leather-clad cheek. The albino stirred slightly under his touch, but otherwise made no further response.

"S'not like I did it on purpose. Healed well enough, didnit?" He flexed too-nimble-for- someone-so-clumsy fingers over the surface, as if testing Heine's ass for blemishes. [ Pft, as if. Ass of steel, Badou Nails guarantee]

"You shot me in the ass," Heine deadpanned, obviously still a tad bitter if the blazing eyes weren't proof enough. [two settings, default: bored, or angry]

"Methinks _someone's _got a sand dune up their vagina," Badou sing-songed giddily, tactfully smoothing his other hand up to the albino's shoulder. [take _that _whoever called him a _non_-smooth criminal!]

"Fuck off," Heine replied, his eyes narrowed maliciously. [_Oh _he would _pay_]

When he began to pull away [to aim a well-deserved punch to Badou's seeing-eye] the hand on his ass suddenly pressed him in close, and Badou brought their mouths together.

Heine instantly released his fist to tangle it in strands of fire-engine-red hair, tugging Badou's face further into his, awkwardly smashing their noses into each other, _then _getting the hang of it and tilting his head a little and allowing further access to Badou's tongue and all corners of his mouth.

The redhead had to come up for air sometime, as well as for safety against getting his lips bitten off. He giggled dazedly, murky green eye clouded with lust, desire, and nicotine-deprivation. [now _wherethefuck _did his cig get to, again? Dammit, this is the _last fucking time…_]

"Care to join me in the forbidden monkey dance, butt munch?" He slurred, er, purred, wiggling his tongue lecherously.

"Care to shut the fuck up?" Heine countered, and without waiting for a response [never did], ground his mouth into Badou's once more.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

EDIT: FFFFFFT. THE BOOM BOX DID A DIAPPEARING ACT BEFORE. HAD TO FIX. MY BAD *bashes head in*

WOOT. I didn't wanna ruin the surprize!songfic in the beginning, so w/o further shit: I do NOT OWN the Bad Touch. Bloodhound Gang does.

Was a lil worried about what to do with Heine, initially. I could have either made him a bit embarrassed and pissed (but never showing it) at all the people staring, or have him be a big ass. For your (and my) entertainment, I chose numero uno.

So. Do you want more, my loves? If so, then SAY IT in a review! 3333 until next time!


	2. Chapter 2: Tales from the John

**Disclaimer: The ownership of DOGS: Bullets and Carnage, and anything related, belongs to Miwa Shirow. Guess what? That's not me. Shame, I know.**

**Notes: You know what really grinds my gears? When an author goes, 'you're not getting a new chapter until I get some reviews' or some shit like that. Holding your story hostage is immature and stupid! If you want to really act like a big league writer, grow some balls and realize you won't always get what you want. Right. I'm done. You're here to read the fuckupness. ANYWHO. Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter. I love you all. And you guys who didn't review? I love you too. **

**Summary: **_**Badou and Heine solve a mystery; Scooby and Shaggy would be filled with a mixture of pride and horror. **_

_**2. Tales from the John **_

"**Noooo, Bellsprout you **_**bitch! **_**Fuckin-NO! Quit using your fuckin' wrap attack! I'll chop you into my goddamn salad!" Badou shrieked, pressing wildly at the round, gray **_**a **_**button of his game boy, bright hair barely sweeping the hand-held he was bent over. **

_**Honestly**_**, he mused between avid curses at the enemy grass Pokemon on the screen and puffs from his cigarette, **_**the toilet was the shit**_**. [literally] The best place to get away from it all; [as long as you kept the window open a crack] the asshole partner, bitchy landlady, shitty jobs, Mimi's taunting, and brainless fuckups on reality t.v. **

"**Will you **_**shut the fuck up**_** in there!?" Snarled an all too familiar baritone through the door. [ Frankly, he liked it much better when it was just nonessential grunts and mumbles] **

"**Some of us are ****trying ****to watch Lost and actually understand what the fucks' going on! Lame dickhead." That last part was mumbled, but consciously loud enough for the redhead perched upon the cracked toilet seat to hear. **

**Badou glanced up, scathing retort on the tip of his tongue ready to spring, yet it died the moment he caught movement in the corner of his eye. He froze, his entire body stiffening, the game boy grasped tightly in his hands instantly forgotten. His mouth opened on its own accord in a wide cavern of horror. **

"_**SHITTT! WHAT-GRAY FURRY FUCKER! OHSHITPHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT HEINE! FUCKINBALLS! TOUCHED MY FUCKIN FOOT**_**!"**

**The redheads hysterical screams shattered any hope Heine had of watching Lost in relative peace. He took about ten seconds to look imploringly up at the ceiling, [whoever's up there is **_**asking **_**for it: up the ass and through the throat] raise the volume on the t.v and settle his rear end more comfortably in Badou's lumpy-ass couch before-**

**The bathroom door all but collapsed in on its rusty hinges, ushering out one flailing Badou Nails, [probably forgot about that lone cig tucked behind his ear] pants pooled around his ankles; and he was screaming, darting over to the couch, arms waving in the air.**

"'_**E WAS THERE! LOOKIN' AT ME WITH BEADY LIL' EYES! TRIED TO CRAWL UP MY LEG! GODFUCK! COULDA GIVEN ME THE BLACK FUCKIN DEATH!**_**" [He'd dropped out of school a week before they learned the disease had struck Europe centuries before, and probably, G-man forbid, wouldn't happen again] **

**His babbled outrage, mostly filled with plans to barricade himself in Wall-mart when the insufferable plague hit, were dashed the second his bare feet snagged a section of his jeans, toppling him to the floor, face first, scrawny legs stuck in the air as if glued there by fate. **

"**Down in front, cumstain," Heine grumbled, brows furrowed. "Blockin' the fuckin' t.v." He stabbed the remote just over the tops of Badou's heels, the sound of Hurley prattling numerical code suddenly increased to the point where the neighbors found something to say about it. **

**His partner seemed to have given away to a dead faint. ["Pussy."] After kicking the redheads feet from his immediate line of vision, [they'd fallen, remaining stuck, to the left, twisting Badou's body at an awkward angle] Heine came upon a daunting turn of events.**

**He had to **_**piss. **_

**Should he venture into the [nasty, reeking, moldy] poor excuse for a bathroom and **_**finally **_**get to his dumbass partners equally dumbass fright? **_**Or **_**take a leak in the kitchen sink again? [it'd been a tad tricky then, aiming that high without getting puddles on the already-stained linoleum] **

**With a despondent sigh and a grunt as stiff limbs tingled awake, Heine rose from the couch much like a zombie, used Badou as a bridge, [he was just laying there, might as well use him for **_**something] **_**and sauntered off to the now door-less bathroom. **

**[Anyway, if he'd pissed in the sink again he'd have to hear that incessant bitching and flapping of orangutan lips] **

**Fly unzipped, hands wrapped around his cock, eyes fastened to the ceiling, [ was that a…**_**pineapple **_**slice?] Heine took care of business. **

**He felt it without warning; a warm, furry little body scuttling across his bare toe in order to meld further against the cracked porcelain base of the toilet. Heine cracked one eye open and stared. **

**Then without further ado, he promptly retrieved one of his guns and shot it, all without interrupting the steady flow into the vile bowl. [Lookit me ma, one handed!] **

"**Just a mouse. Moron. Shittin' a brick over nothing." **

**And so, Heine returned to the t.v [he was **_**pretty **_**incensed when he realized it was **_**another**_** fuckin' re-run] happily ever after.**

**Until his channel surfing was interrupted once Badou regained consciousness ten minutes later, realizing with a groan, that Heine was his savior.**

"**Yay. My hero. You kil-" He felt a weight that **_**wasn't there before **_**in his pocket, and inhaled an overwhelming stench that was **_**definitely **_**new. "…he's in my pocket, isn't' 'e? You **_**fuckass**_**." **

"…**Maybe." **

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Hmm. Messing around with Badou's…accent? Isn't as appealing as I thought it would be. BLARGH. The mouse thing happened to me one time….**

**Bellsprout is a bitch. **

**A friend of mine claims she's gonna barricade herself in wall-mart when zombies attack**

**Lost is CONFUSING AS FUCK. Even IF you watch it from the beginning. **

**Yes. This was short for a reason BESIDES my laziness. **

**So. No, I am NOT holding the next chapter hostage. Matter of fact, I'll be updating in about five days, give or take a few hours. **

**So, my lovelies. Review and tell me what you think? Do you want more? Or should I just retire? 333333**

**EDIT: I swear to god, fan fiction, stop fucking bolding this when I re-upload…**


	3. Chapter 3: That One Little Word

Disclaimer: If you think, this far into the story, that I own ANYTHING, then you're dead wrong buddy. . NOW REPENT!

Notes: This is probably my 2nd fave. One because Musing!Badou is adorable, especially when he's ramble-y in his head. Two, Heine is _such _a bitch. Maybe I should stop him from abusing Badou so mu- _naw. _THAR BE SLASH AHEAD. Mild, awkward, slash, but slash regardless. Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME~ I'm an old lady.

SideNote: Once again, thanks you guys for supporting my lil thingy here. I appreciate it.

Summary: _Badou __must __have heard wrong… _

3. That One Little Word

Once again [boys and girls] it was deep-thought time for the elusive one-eyed, loud, brash, fuckup-ginger, Badou Nails.

One crimson eyebrow was worked up to nearly his hairline, while his face was scrunched up into a contemplative frown while he stared down at the peaceful [Pfft! That asscanker, peaceful?] slumbering face of his partner. If the albino asshole were awake, he'd label the expression as a 'constipated' face. If Badou wasn't afraid for the safety of his dangly bits he'd tell him to fuck off, and then get whatever was at arms reach thrown at him, or a solid slap to the head or balls.

Deep thought number one(though not the main attraction): How the _fuck _was this even physically plausible? No, not the fucking part, Badou had long since edited such thought analysis out-- just how in the name of Jesus Christ's Salty Balls were the two of them residing on the couch without it completely collapsing in on them? [he suddenly remembered the crack right down the middle, clear to the steel frame beneath from that one time…] And in minimal comfort? [ minimal didn't exactly account for the elbow in his nutsack, but he'd endure if it meant ten more minutes without the snowflakes' shitty consciousness]

The albino fucker was flat on his back beneath him, sawing 'em off. Like, full blown, mouth open [fuckkk. Love nothin' more than to shove something hard in there. Specifically Mr. Ting Ting] even breaths, in-out sort of sawing, complete with drool trickling from the corner of his mouth. How he was able to draw breath with Badou pressed so heavily atop his abdomen was a mystery in itself. [Badou's right leg, which was suspended in mid-air, _correction, the couch's arm_, suddenly twitched at the dubious zombie theory] _Oh _how he wished for a sharpie for which to draw vaginas on Heine's face.

Where were Badou's hands, one may wonder. They were at a respectable ten and five, which happened to kind of coincide with the tweaking of a nipple and the cupping of an ass cheek. However, accurate numerical direction always eluded the redhead. [Ah~ good times] He gave in to his aching muscles and relaxed his weight fully against Heine's chest, buried his face in the albino's hair, and brooded. [No, considered]

_Okay, alright_, deep thought number two: he _must _have heard wrong. That was the only closure his mind could logically [ even that was a feat in itself] grasp.

Heine had come skittering into his apartment in one of _those_ moods. To clarify, not the crazyass motherfuckin Black Mutt kind. It was of the pissed off desire to be fucked into the ground [or whatever was handy] variety. So after forcing himself inside, he stomped right up to the puzzled redhead, plucked the ever-present cigarette from the corner of his mouth, stalked off in the direction of the door-less bathroom, and then maliciously flushed Mr. Ciggie down the toilet.

Badou had, as expected, promptly gone ape shit and thrown himself at the fuckface, screaming nonsense, [the awful habit of 'last cig' came into question] and thereupon fucked him right then and there, wedged against the mildew stained tub, damn near pushed _into _the shitty tub by the force of Badou's angered thrusts. The neighbors had beaten the walls, hoping they'd _shut the fuck up in there, fucking queers! _but alas, neither the albino nor the redhead had any knowledge of the word 'restraint'. [Don't hold your damn breath for a new door in these hard times we live in] At some point in time they relocated to various flat surfaces[ the fridge didn't exactly count since it was upturned on its side] until finally ending up on the lumpy couch.

Now, Badou never asked what'd happened, [ one word, giraffe dude] never questioned his partners motives, [that's for pussies] and certainly didn't try to lecture him. [they were both getting what they wanted, right? rough fucking and relief from boredom] What had baffled him into wakefulness in the afterglow was what his partner had muttered during round two (?).

They were _sofuckingclose_, the ice-princesses' legs wrapped so tightly around his waist to the point of cutting circulation, his own nails digging crescents pooling blood into the albinos hips, their ragged breaths melding into a series of bruising, bloody kisses, [too bad marks always faded way too quickly] and suddenly Heine lost it; he detached his mouth from Badous, sharp chin pressed into the crook of Badou's neck, back arching at a painful angle, hips bucking wildly as he spilled all over his and his partners stomachs, and he'd mumbled a word into Badou's ear that sounded an awful lot like 'poontang'.

A split second later Badou, prompted by the albino's constricting ass, came with a keening cry, completely disregarding anything but the thundering of his heart in his ears and wave after wave of pleasure, too high off the nicotine deprivation and the fact that he'd fuckin _won. _[take that bitch!]

When all was said and done, in that warm sated haze between sleep and oblivion, it all came back to him. But not in the romantic mystical way that French-Canadian loud ass bitch once claimed through song.

Fact: There was, and never would be anything remotely resembling affection in their fucked up thing of wonder, blood, fucking, and the occasional [frequent] cursing, since Badou had _so totally _topped monsieur shithead. So the word definitely didn't equate to one of endearment.

Fact: Heine wouldn't touch a woman's woodle [1] with a twenty foot pole, let alone his cock.

The most damning of all: how the fuck would that childhood-less canker nuts know what poontang meant anyway??

Deduction: Heine had not said 'poontang' but had in fact said 'pudding' which was almost equally fucked up, but honestly made a lot more sense. To Badou at least.

Besides, maybe General Puffball was hungry and slipped during the throes of passion. Cuz _yeah _Badou knew he was that fucking good. That sounded a _hell _of a lot better than the alternative any day.

"Badou…" Wheezed a familiar baritone, exasperated.

The redhead sighed, unburying his nose from stark white hair, and readied himself for the inevitable GTFO [forgo the issue of being in _his _goddamn apartment]

"Whazzit snowflake? Sore ass?"

"Stop fucking thinking so hard. You'll pop a blood vessel." Heine replied, for once ignoring the snide remark regarding his behind.

Badou grinned and readjusted his hands [tugging that boney elbow from his sac] so that they hooked around Heine's narrow hips.

"Aww, why cocksucker, leave it to you to be concerned for my well-being!" He cooed, straightening up, shiteating grin revitalized full force.

Heine swiftly elbowed him in the nut sac, catapulting the redhead to meet the floor with a shrill, "fffffucking bastard!"

"I don't want you bleeding all over me, asshat." Heine coolly answered, folding his arms beneath his head. "Ya know, since you're already up, be a dear and go get me some pudding. I'm hella starving."

In conclusion, Badou's investigative skills left much to be desired, aside from being used at the right place and time.

From his new abode on the cold hard wood floor, hands wedged between his thighs, he wasn't quite patting himself on the back for a job well done, either.

"SMOKES!!!!"

Agony forgotten, his teary eye suddenly spied a familiar cylinder stick peeking out from beneath the couch end. He leapt up.

"GET YOUR OWN GODDAMN PUDDING YOU WALKING YEAST INFECTION! I'M NOT YOUR FUCKING BOYFRIEND!" Lit the cigarette, and stomped off to the kitchen anyway.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ne, Badou-kun, this drabble leaves much to be desired too. At first I was like, oh god imma genius hahahahhaha, cuz it was 4 am and I was so. Tired. Now that I look at it again I'm like eh. (shrug) It works. The ending is new, actually, haha. Yeast infection….anywho.

1. Woodle is a word a friend of mine once used for vagina.

So you know the drill; if you find any errors, I'd like to know so I can fix and NOT look like a permanent dumbass.

Leave me some reviews, ne? I'll love you lots more.

333333333333

KinkyEyepatchShit


	4. Chapter 4: Couldn't Get To First Base

Disclaimer: Again, if you've come this far thinking I own this wonderful series and characters, then I'm sad to say you are mistake. 

Notes: Hey everybody (mimics: hey kinkyeyepatchshit!) So how are ya? Feelin good? Makin money? No, I won't shoot the shit for long, no worries. In three days I'm going on vaca for a week, so that means no updates for a bit. L One exciting-ish thing for you guys: I'm gonna start mixing things up. All-dialog, charrie's p.o.v's, whatev. (god that's gonna be fuckin trippy) If you have any style you'd like to see, drop it in with your review, and I'll see what I can do. NO GAURENTEES. I love you guys, but I'm not really a miracle worker. So…The following warnings: Stereotypical homosexuals, Lost Bashing (again) randomness, Alcohol. NOW CUT TO: 

Summary: _Badou struggles with the truth while Heine plays a questionable game of Hide N' Seek_

't Get to First Base 

Over the years, the job had called upon Badou Nails to do a number of things considered questionable and taboo, if not for that lovely green paper with which he bought his smokes and porn.

This evening had taken the notch down to a particularly new low. [Yes, lower than 'you're on candid camera,' with the police chief getting hot n' heavy on a rotting corpse]

He was rooted to a low bar stool adjacent from the [lo and behold] bar in the back of the club. The tender was giving him The Eye, making him burry his gaze much deeper into his half empty glass, suppressing goosebumps. [No, not even for another drink on the house. That shit would get _laced the fuck up_]

Cat calls and wolf whistles spilled forth from the back room across the club, blocked off by heavy duty bead curtains and a tall, gangly bouncer stationed before the entrance. [The nametag read _Hello, my name is Fuck Off Tourists] _

From behind him the dance floor purred and vibrated with the booming music, erratic strobe lights, gyrating bodies and hot sex-in-the-secluded-corner. [It wasn't a drink and the corner wasn't as secluded as the lovebirds assumed. Dumbasses.]

He was indeed stuck in No-Straight-Mans-Land: a gay club. Stuck surveying the heavy come-ons bestowed upon his sulky partner when he was _supposed _to be looking out for the target, left wondering 'why not me?' Must've been the booze talking. Sweet, Sweet, alcohol.

"Honey, you're cute and all, but frankly? You look like you smell." The tender gushed, shooting a sickeningly sympathetic smile Badou's way.

The redhead frowned. [Note to self: Quit saying shit out loud] Obviously taking his silence as an invitation, the tender scuttled over to him. "Your boyfriends' got that mysterious aura to him."

Badou snorted into his drink, landing a little snot in there. [never hurt anyone] More like Back The Fuck Up Or get Shot In The Face aura. "He's not my fucking

boyfriend." He managed to snarl, oh-so convincing.

"Plus those chains are a turn on," The tender continued, dreamily gazing over at Heine, seated at a table a few feet away.

The albino grinned a much-too-toothy maniacal grin up at a brunette that had the balls to approach him, leveling a gun at the dudes crotch.

The guy took the smart road: high tailed it outta there, retreating back into the crowd to lick his wounds. _Persistent indeed_. Heine shot a glare at his other potential suitors, and once certain they wouldn't try anything, holstered his weapon and returned to scanning the crowd.

Badou rolled his eye at the albino's antics. He was either gonna scare the fuck out of everyone or get them kicked out. Not necessarily in that order. _God_ he fucking needed a smoke. The place was fucked up, no smoking rule his scrawny white ass. It, and whatever fuck hole who thought it up could figuratively suck his fat cock. [cuz there was no way he was gonna syphilis]

Fuckk. If money wasn't tighter than Heine's asshole they wouldn't even be in this mess. Probably. _Okay, _most likely in one similar to it, but _not_ similar enough to risk being drugged and buttraped in some alley, according to the redhead.

"_Maybe I forgot to read at some point, but...does this say we gotta go to a queer club for this thing?" Badou inquired, scarred hand raised in the air as if they were in the classroom and he was asking sensei the answer to number seven._

"_Surprisingly, you're correct," Liza replied, peering at him from over a stack of papers. "Put your hand down," She added as an afterthought. "Its relatively simple: go there, locate the target, and observe. Then report back to me." _

_Badou locked eyes with his partner, skeptical. "And how do __you __feel about this, numbnuts?" _

"_You saw the pay," Heine deadpanned. "Let's get this over with. Wanna get back in time to watch Lost."_

_Badou's mouth drooped into a frown. "That retarded show? It never fuckin ends! Its always time travel and OH NOES, there's some mysterious creature eating people! And get this: damn near invisible to boot!" Here he broke off to make wild hand gestures. "The bad guys always have some good ulterior motive, and the good guys never get any pussy. An endless cycle. Oh yeah, and that Mexican guy, or whatever the fuck he is, never loses any weight even though he's always runnin around and shit."_

_By the end of the redheads' rant Heine positively radiated more menace than usual. "__You're __retarded." _

_Badou stared unblinkingly. Finally, "Wow, great come-back douche head." He then turned to Liza and dramatically declared, "This smells of a trap." _

"_That's your B.O." Heine grumbled, still a little put off._

_Badou rounded on him, exasperated. "Shut the fuck up, already! What are you, seven?" _

_Liza sighed loudly to get their attention. "Its not a trap. And certainly nothing you two can't handle. You'll see for yourself once you get there." _

_Since there was no point, or room, for any further argument, [damn did he wanna try!] the dastardly duo departed. _

"…_..The fuck kinda name is Sawyer, anyhow?" _

_00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000_

_The line was long: Understatement. _

_Badou was sucking on a cig as if his life depended on it: Fact [his life did depend on it, too]_

_Heine was softly humming the OC theme song slightly off key: Startling trivia he hoped to never witness a second time with his own eye. Not to mention ears. _

_It was inescapably their turn. "Are you two of the rainbow brigade?" The pixie-ish bouncer asked, cocking a perfectly plucked eyebrow at them._

_Badou stiffened. Honestly, he had no problem with queers-er, homosexuals, and the like. They had a lot in common; breathed the same air, ate the same food, and hell, lately, pounded into the same orifice. He just wasn't one to conform, ya know? Not like smoking, cuz that was a lifestyle, not conforming, no sir. [apparently he was a one albino show as well]_

"_A straight fucker wouldn't have hair like that." Heine piped up way too eagerly. Fuckin…dog nip shit. _

_The bouncer smirked once Badou started bitching, something about lame-ass crackers and the way honesty was a virtue. _

"_What about you?" Mr. Cock-Interested leaned in close, displaying a pale throat. _

_Heine's stare was unrelenting and creepy. [He couldn't complain, he was getting cock after all]_

"_A quiet one. I like that." The Bouncer's cupid lips stretched into a grin as he unhooked the rope formerly blocking off the entrance. "Go for it, hot stuff." _

_The second they passed him Heine yelped and jumped up, twisting around just in time to spot the bouncers twitchy fingers retreat back to his side and away from his ass. [Something Humiliating inside Badou growled at the injustice done to his property] _

They'd split up after that; Heine to sniff around like the dog he was for clues and Badou to investigate the local drinks.

"Hey shithead."

Badou grumbled under his breath. Oh, the assrangler was back. He paused mid-grumble. And he brought some frienemies.

"These guys say they know where the target is." The albino jerked a thumb toward the two flanking his sides. He fastened Badou with a look that clearly stated 'watch my drink.'

"Slip some trippy shit into my drink and I'll ram my cock into that eye socket." With the odd threat settling uneasily into the air, the doomed duo [Heine was The Doom] took off.

"Who'd wanna drug your stupid ass?" The redhead muttered sourly.

"I would."

"No one asked you, asshole."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

A firm grip on his wrist dragged Badou from the haze of alcohol.

"About fuckin time! I've been here all awkward and shit, and the drinks man, they're not doing a damn thing for my cholesterol. Its bullshit I tell ya!"

"Your entire existence is awkward," Heine countered, tugging his partner to his feet. "Time to go."

[Magic Words, Heine always had a way with them] Badou's eye lit up. "You mean it?"

That was when he took notice of the hysterical commotion erupting from the direction Heine had come. [did his little eye spy a trail of dead fuckers?]

And the look of pure joy morphed into one of full on anger, nostrils flared in an attempt to carry enough oxygen into his lungs for," THE FUCK DID YOU DO NOW?" His roar, nay, howl. Howl-level didn't overwhelm the other random screams and bring attention to them.

Heine one handed-ly tucked his Luger back into its holster, his lips curled into a scowl that could rival Badou's. "All I did was play Hide N' Seek with 'em," He muttered, casting a too-innocent look on Badou, as if the redhead was stupid. Scratch that- like he didn't know who the fuck he was talking to.

"Bullshit!" Badou snarled, snatching his wrist out of Heine's fingers in order to tuck a cigarette between his lips. "Don't think I don't know what a goddamn kiss on the cheek is to you! Fuckin crazyass motherfucker."

He flipped off some random non-panicked employees outcry of _sir, there's no smoking in here _and lit his cig, taking a languid hit from it. [was it really smart to bitch about the atmosphere when said atmosphere was being fucked? No. It wasn't. Fuck off.]

"Ya wonder why I never let you kiss me on the damn cheek," he continued, oblivious to the chaos around them.

Some rabid drunk had lit his shirt on fire too, the moron. People were running around. Crazy Shit. The music had stopped some time ago, and the room was swathed in near-darkness.

"I figured it was cuz you hide your gay feelings inside," The albino commented, completely serious. [one could tell, by that little crease in his brow, and the way he was actually looking to Badou like wasn't a complete idiot or a piece of meat]

Badou rolled his eye. "Right, Mr. Hide N Seek with my cock. If you're joking, then you suck."

Heine ignored the jab to his sense of humor and scanned the chaos he'd created. "So."

"Sooo..."Badou replied. Maybe standing round with their thumbs up their asses, per se, wasn't such a hot idea.

"YOU TWO! WHITE HAIR AND EYEPATCH!" _Shit_, and there was the cavalry. Leave it to Heine to cause a scene when Badou didn't. Two towering bouncers, complete with matching badass tattoos across their arms [maybe they were an item??] stomped their way through the throng of partiers toward them. [where the _hell _did they get these suckers, anyway? Is there like, an add service for tall, ugly, and bitchbait?]

Heine had the gall to sigh. "Guess I'll just 'brush my teeth in the bathroom with this magazine,' then." [1] He leveled his weapons at the approaching thugs.

"No Heine." Badou corrected him with mock patience one would use with a child [same difference] and he had to be _a little _amused at the current shit. His lips stretched into a mad grin. "You say that when you gotta bust one in the bathroom stall at Buon Viaggo's." [Rolling with the flow would keep him on this earth for another ten minutes at least]

The albino frowned his disapproval, eyes flickering to his partners face. "You sick fuck."

They held the silence for about three seconds before bursting into laughter as the first shot rang out.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

ALTERNATE ENDING:

"We can leave now? You promise?"

"Yes idiot, I promise," Heine said as he dragged his partner to the door.

Badou giggled dazedly. "Aww, let's never fight again," and wrapped his wire-y arms around Heine's shoulders.

Heine stiffened, eyes comically wide. "….Its just the booze talkin', Heine."

As they exited, the bouncer from before held up his pinkie and thumb up in the universal sign of 'call me,' then threw Heine a flirty smile.

"Ne, Heine."

"Hmm?"

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

"…..Yes Badou. You're very fetching."

"Good. I was beginning to think no one liked me."

"For a stupid, annoying, chicken shit, lazy, disgusting, stupid cyclops, you're okay."

That night, Badou's drunken self-esteem went up a couple of notches, though he would only remember drunkenly coping a feel the morning after.

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

I THINK YOU'RE PRETTY BADOU-KUN!

Whew, that was a long one for me. Did you guys enjoy it?

[1] if no one realizes it yet, my friends say the weirdest shit. But I love them for it cuz it gives me inspiration.

So uh, I'm guessing from the lack of any reviews from the last chap that I should just bury my slash-writing skills, and then shoot them repeatedly with a bazooka, yes? Or maybe it wasn't too cool to insult Celine Dion. She's cool, really. I just. Needed to rip on her?

Anywho, again, if you wanna see anything special, let me know and I'll see what I can cook up.

I'LL MISS YOU GUYS WHILE I'M ON VACA. HOPEFULLY I CAN SNEAKILY WRITE WHILE MY MOMMY ISN'T LOOKING.

IF YOU SEE ANY EMBARASSING ERRORS, LET ME KNOW CUZ I WANNA GET BETTER.

So, leave me some reviews? 33333333


	5. Chapter 5: Love Letters

Disclaimer: STILL do not own. I'll get back to you once I do. Don't hold your breath.

Notes: HIIIII. Its been awhile, and I've missed you guys! Its good to be back from vaca, especially now that my Writers Block the Bitch has somewhat receded. (waves angry fist at it) So. Have fun with this one, I know I did! (cept, you know, when I was cussing it out)

Summery: _Love notes were never meant to be vague rambles of 'I love yous, marry me.' It was all to get a point across, which Badou did. _

_5. _Love Note

_Dear Heine's ass,_

_Look, I didn't know Nill was watching when I slapped your leather clad-ness the other day. That girl is as quiet as a fuckin mouse, how was I supposed to know she was behind us?! [not to mention, who the hell told that girl to hide under a bench like some yaoi fan girl?] I am also totally, completely in no way, responsible for her seeing me 'molest' you, as your albino cocktease owner claims. If she didn't believe my yell of 'Its for a sandwich!' then there's no hope for her. [besides, the bastard liked it, and he knows it. Stupid fuck.] Now that I'm thinking clearly, it's obviously Heine's fault for being so tempting in all that leather. Its a miracle that damn lolicon priest didn't get to him first! _

_So anyway, tell that shitty cocktease to quit being such a goddamn pussy [I've yet to see valid proof that he's not: we always do it in the dark] and let me fuck you already. _

_Your horny [other] owner, _

_Badou's cock _

Capping the pen shut, Badou slid the tattered yellow notepad across the couch cushion, refusing to shift his line of sight to the albino slumped on the other end of the couch. Instead he fastened it on the flashing television screen and suggestively rubbed a thumb up and down the side of the pen. [It was another damn Sailor Moon re-run] Judging by the distinct intake of breath from his left and no answering punch to his balls, his partner was taking it all in stride.

He was so sucked into the addicting plot circles and obvious lesbianism [no matter what 4kids or _fuckever _tries to play off], he didn't even catch the flurry of movement until a very familiar black leather-clad crotch blocked the t.v.

"Hey, down in front, asshole," he grumbled, eye making the ascent from the crotch to his partners face. _Well hello there. _

_Oh I get it_, thought Badou for one fleeting moment. _Time for some hot monkey ruttin. Sweet! _

Heine's face was completely void of emotion, the yellow 'love note' crushed in a fist as he peered down at Badou.

He all but squawked in surprise a second later when the albino abruptly lifted his knee and _pressed _it into Badou's crotch, smiling a tooth-filled smile promising _Something. _

Badou choked a little on his cigarette, nervous laughter and a couple of coughs bubbling from his parted lips, eye wide and wondering. [_fuck, bad _Ciggie, you could've started a fire on the carpet!]

"_Haah_, and to what do I owe the pleasure of this random move?" He asked once his trachea ceased to seizure.

Well, that's what he _would_ have said. What came out was '_Harrrghpft,' _since Heine chose that moment to simultaneously pop the crumpled note into Badou's open mouth and drive his knee into Home Base, eliciting the _prized_ garbled scream.

Badou fell back onto the couch, hands wedged between his thighs, and choked just a _bit _more on agony than paper. _Damn…you…white hair… you fuckin…cumbucket…_He could only glare at his smug-ass partners form, desperately wishing for a bazooka and a cigarette. [Guess which would have the pleasure of being acquainted with Mr. Creampuff?]

Emanating pride, Heine set his foot back on Planet Earth, waltzed over to his end of the couch, plopped down and claimed the remote.

"Dear Badou's cock…gotcha manbitch. Your Master, Heine. P. S. The way I see it, crying on the couch is for pussies, and you're one pussy who won't be getting much ass with those blue balls."

With a smirk and a single click, Sailor Moon disappeared from the screen, replaced by a group of survivors running from a savage group of unknown enemies.

Heine growled. "Goddammit. 'Nother one." However, the alternative being skimpy-clad young girls running around fighting evil, he left it as it was.

Badou was left to a good sulk. And revision of Plan B. [ Believe it or not, Plan A put _much _more than blue balls in danger]

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alternative Ending:

"Dear Badou's cock…gotcha manbitch. Sincerely, Heine. P.S You lost the game."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

HAHA. Yeah. -cough- 'm sorry. I'm working, I'm working, I can do better. So I'd really appreciate some reviews, cuz I love you guys and stuff. Also, it'd convince me that I'm doing some good here.

Note: The idea for the letter to their respective orifice was not my idea. It belongs to the person who invented Kelly Shoes. You know, the 'chick' with the song about shoes.

P.S There is nothing wrong with crying on the couch, especially after having your nads brutalized.

P.P.S I was under the bench.


	6. Chapter 6: For Cereal

Disclaimer: Insert witty way of saying I don't own a damn thing

Notes: HEY YOU GUYYYYYS. I've come to terms with the fact that I'm going to hell for many things, this being among the top five. As a fair warning: There is smut. Yes, I've attempted again. So uh, if you haven't already been scared off, then run along. Sorry if Mihai, Bishop and Giovanni are incredibly OOC. They're really hard to throw into this situation without being a little bit on crack!the drug.

Summery: _Badou suspects his subconscious is trying to tell him something _

6: **Sweet Dreams are ****Not ****Made of This. For Cereal.**

The first thing that tipped Badou off to _Something Fucked Up_ was the lack of light in the church. Now, he knew the place kinda sucked when it came to repairs and shit [ ya had to wonder how bishop was getting their job money, too] but come rain or shine Bishop had the electricity bill paid and the place was lit up like an actual place of worship, not the craptastic hole it was in reality.

So he was more than a little floored by the mere rays of sunlight that illuminated the empty sea of seats in the church when he burst in, half an hour late for his meeting with Heine. [ He hoped the albino butt hole hadn't fuckin taken up the alarm clock-in-eye offer from before]

The second thing that added to his Fucked Up radar were the tell-tale moans and slap of sweaty skin against sweaty skin coming from the back row. It definitely sounded like someone was fucking.

_Haha, who had the balls to fuck in here? 'sides me and Heine that is_, he mused, _who would dare fuck in Bishops' church? _he thought[not who dared fuck in the house of God] as he cautiously slinked toward the sound, not quite sure _why _he gave a shit, aside from pure curiosity and all that, but hell, he wanted to know. He grinned outwardly imagining Bishops' face when he discovered the sacrilege going on. [Okay, so it was a little disheartening how Bishop wouldn't _see _it, but at least he'd find out]

Upon reaching the place of fuckage Badou instantly figured Bishop knew exactly what kinda fuckage was going on in there. Mostly because he was the one being fucked.

"Haah, Mihai-san, I never knew your scars went _that_ far down." Bishop cooed, dipping his head in order to nip at a particularly thick mass of scar tissue jutting out from Mihai's left shoulder, rousing a hitch in breath from the other man.

"Ngh- you jealous?" Mihai's lips curled at the thought of a jealous priest as he wrapped one arm around the others middle while his hand, with a life of its own, snaked down to his lovers cock and gave it a firm squeeze.

Bishop groaned, pitching his hips forward, drawing more of Mihai inside him. "Of course not! It's one of the seven deadly sins, right?"

Badou's brain chose to shut down at that moment, but unfortunately his eyesight remained fully intact; capable of picking up every thrust, kiss, jerk, and moan.

As if by fate, Mihai's lust-filled eyes swiveled up to meet Badou's face, and he paused mid-hump. "Oh, Badou. It's a good thing you're here."

Badou could only sputter, cigarette dangling dangerously low from his bottom lip, _the fuck is my witnessing this a good thing you shitty old fart?! _

"I've been meaning to talk to you about your partner, Heine."

_Oh shit. _

"Partner, haha, you're funny." Bishop piped up, removing his mouth from Mihai's neck long enough to twist round and 'look' at Badou. "They're definitely more than that." Prompted by his lovers expression of confusion, the priest continued, "They-

"LA LA LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Badou wailed, jamming his index fingers in his ears while Bishop finished the rest of that sentence, to the redhead's plugged ears it remained as it should be: random unidentifiable words.

By the time he tugged his fingers out [tips stained a little yellow with wax] Mihai was silent, his face the very picture of brooding.

"Hey, this way we can have that orgy you've always wanted." Bishop appealed to his lover, leaning forward and capturing his lovers earlobe between his teeth.

Mihai's lips split into a grin. "This is true." He gave what could only be computed as a 'come hither' look. "Why don't you go call him? Nill won't be back from Liza-san's shop for another couple of hours, so there's plenty of time for making love. All together."

Upon discovering consciousness, Badou caught the tail-end of an earsplitting girly shriek. Recognizing his own voice, he promptly shut the fuck up and sank deeper into the covers of the bed he definitely didn't remember ever owning, in a dark room he'd never seen before.

"Oh for fucks sake-"

He recognized his irritable partners voice right away from beside him.

"HEINE! DUDE I JUST HAD THIS WEIRD ASS DREAM! MIHAI AND BISHOP WERE FUCKING, AND THEY KNEW THAT WE FUCK, AND THEY WANTED TO HAVE AN ORGY WITH US!" Badou blurted hysterically, feeling around to the right for the albino's warm flesh, a sort of comforting mechanism really. What best to cuddle up with after a fucked up dream than one grumpy albino?

"Badou."

The redhead blinked against the darkness, his partner forgotten for the moment, that voice one he hadn't heard since _that _night, years ago. "Dave?" He croaked, fumbling for the lamp he guessed was nearby, succeeding in snagging the cord and then tugged it sharply

Blinding light forced him to squint, but with one glance he knew it was his brother, un-aged since that time, with another mans' legs draped over his shoulders while Dave plowed into him, not even glancing his younger brothers' way once.

_Is everyone but me getting some poontang tonight? The fuck. _

_Wait a second…_those pale, scrawny legs looked _awfully _familiar. As Dave pulled his bum-chum fully onto his lap, Badou managed a glimpse of the white haired man wriggling against the sheets, clutching the headboard behind him.

"HEINE, WHAT THE FUCKING SHIT?!"

Crimson eyes slid open and stared. "His cock's bigger." That out in the open, he threw his head back and moaned, [ b-but that cocksucker never made bitch moans like _that _for him!] eyes sliding shut once more and legs wrapping around Dave's waist, drawing him closer. Dave responded by upping the speed and shot a smug grin in his brothers' direction as if to say 'Ha ha, bitch, I got your eye _and_ your fuck buddy too!' [which didn't really make sense, cuz Badou's eye was just long gone, by some _other _fuckers]

Just when Badou was about to jump the two of them, [he wasn't comfortable with the uncertainty that he was either gonna beat the shit outta Dave or join them] a new voice, coupled with a pair of arms slithered around his waist, yanking him against a bare chest. [without tits, might he add]

"Aw, don't worry Eyepatch-chan. My brother here could never satisfy you in the way I could." The voice seeped into every pore in his body and he turned, meeting a pair of orange bug-eyed glasses, a bowl cut, and sharp teeth stretched impossibly wide.

Badou's mouth dropped open, eye wide with horror, and he did what any man would in his situation.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" He screamed bloody murder.

"_adou! BADOU!" _

He was jerked awake by throbbing pain in his shoulders, probably made by the asshole latched onto him, shaking him from side to side and staring at him with something akin to concern. [or repulsion, can't quite be sure]

"OUCH, THAT HURTS, ASSHAT!" Badou shrieked, wrenching himself from the vice-like grip Heine had on him. He rolled his shoulders forward and grumbled under his breath about _goddamn cotton ball wannabes, _eyeing the albino warily.

"Hey, how'd you get in here, intruder?" Badou demanded, scowling.

Heine in turn scowled right back. "The door was wide open, douche bag."

"_Oh_."

"Yeah, oh. Its no wonder you're always getting your dumbass kidnapped and the shit beaten out of you." Heine muttered, folding his arms over his chest.

Like a bullet in the ass, it struck Badou. He grabbed at fistfuls of his partners shirt and dragged the other man onto his lap, claiming his lips in a bruising kiss. While Heine tried to decide what the do _some time this century _Badou took the initiative to pry at the buttons on the albino's shirt, tugging it half way off his shoulder in the process. His tongue dived inside his partners mouth in search of his tongue, or hell, maybe gold, Heine wasn't quite sure at that point.

Eventually Heine managed to snag the others nipple through his shirt and twist clockwise, forcing the redhead to remove his tongue from down Heine's throat and scream in outraged pain.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?!" He wailed, hot tears gathering behind his eyeball.

"Why'd you kiss me?" Heine inquired, face much too blank after such a molestation. However, the subtle flush of pink on his cheeks served every indication.

"A TITTY TWISTER WASN'T NECCISSARY, YOU COULD HAVE JUST ASKED, YOU FUCKER!"

"Answer the question," Heine hissed, putting more emphasis on the request by squeezing the redheads nipple hard enough to cut off circulation.

Badou lurched forward and groaned, sweat breaking out on his forehead. "C-cuz I wanted to prove that I could fuck you better than Dave or that crazy giraffe ever could! And that my cock is bigger too!"

Heine was quiet. Too quiet. And he'd released Badou's abused nipple altogether. Badou chanced a glance up, and was met with a raised eyebrow and a tiny twitch at the corner of the albino's mouth.

"Badou."

"Yeah?"

"Pipe down and fuck me, already."

Badou's eye lit up and without further encouragement, he sealed his mouth over Heine's, pushing the albino beneath him.

At least this way he'd replace the image of Bishops' pale ass with hot fuckage of Heine by way of his cock.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'I did it for the lulz.' is what I'm gonna say to Satan The Devil once I meet him in hell. I figure I can sweet talk my way outta hell, but I might stick around, depending on whose all gonna be there. Like you guys, for reading this. I consider this one of the most fucked up, funniest, weirdest things I've ever written in my entire life. It's now 4am. I really hope by tomorrow this is STILL as good as I feel it is right now. So, review, por favor? I LOVE YOU ALL. EVEN IF YOU DECIDE I'M A NUTCASE (it's a proven fact) P.S I know he may never read this, but I added the Gio/Badou element for KiraXsama because he loves those two doing it. I'm not a fan, but KiraXsama is rad, so there. I DID IT FOR THE LULS, DAMMIT.


	7. Chapter 7: Dog Day Afternoon

Disclaimer: Honestly, if I owned DOGS Heine would probably kill me for making him do all this shit

Notes: I'm SO fuckin sorry you guys. I've no excuse for the lack of updates till now. Again, sorry.

Since I love KiraXsama SO much (and I was uber bored) I asked him what/where he wanted the boys to do/go, and his answer was something that made me die inside. In a good way, honest. Those who cringe at fluffish shit and public stupidity should probably skedaddle. Warnings are for language and groping, mostly. So basically for Badou.

Summary: "_Dear Kes (KinkyEyepatchShit), just because you're a sexually deprived bat shit crazy whore, doesn't mean you can fuckin write about me boning my bitchy partner (no homo)….ANYWHO IF YOU WRITE ANYMORE OF THIS SHIT, I'LL BUST A CAP IN YO ASS." Silly Badou, crack is for Kes. _

7. Dog Day Afternoon

"Why the hell are we here, again?" Heine demanded, shifting his scorching glare between the weaving crowd and the giddy redhead stuffing his face.

Badou rolled his eye and bit into his snow cone, dribbling cherry liquid over his lips and down his chin as he attempted to get his point across, hand gestures included. "Cuz we need a goddamn vacation. All this time we're busting our asses out there and not _once _have we gotten a day to just kick back and take it easy."

Heine snorted, anything but convinced. "We coulda done that anywhere else but here, shithead."

By here, he meant the excitable crowd, the scrambling children, the rides, and most of all: the elephant ears. ["Dude, they're not made from real elephants, yanno. Those'er extinct."]

"Lighten up, princess tightwad," Badou admonished whilst he thumbed a chunk of ice off his lips and onto his awaiting tongue. "Enjoy the sights, eat some junk food shit, and let ol' Badou show you a good time." By the end of his tirade he'd polished off the snow cone and had deposited the cone paper onto the ground. ["_Some animal's gonna eat that and choke to death_." "Since when have you ever given a fuck about preserving life?" _"Touché." _]

Before Heine had the chance to go tell 'ol Badou' his exact opinion on the issue, [considering most of Heine's opinions ended in the maiming of others, things weren't looking up] the redhead interrupted him with a squawk, his single eye lighting up with what Heine would call enthusiasm had he any knowledge of said emotion for anything other than bloodshed.

"Let's go on that!" Badou chirped in much child-like fashion, snatching the bewildered albino by the wrist and proceeding to drag him to a platform with a number of red spherical seats bolted down to the floor.

Once they were seated [ not quite homely enough until you have an albino fuckhead trying to break your fingers, spitting curses in your face, snarling at small wailing children fearfully pleading for someone to _make the meanie ghost stop biting that pirate man_!] Heine took one look at the other seats occupied with chattering children and drunk couples, then slugged his partner one right in the gut.

"What the fuck was that for, bitchface?!" Badou breathed, rubbing at the sore spot and glowering, allowing time for air to rush back into his lungs before continuing his tirade. [if he didn't cut that shit out right now…he'd _get it_.]

"There was a bee on your shirt." The albino deadpanned. He nonchalantly gripped the metal safety bar restraining them, eyes hooded with boredom as the ride gradually began to shift, arching along the metal pathway of its home.

"LIAR!" Badou howled, shoving a cigarette between his lips for good measure.

"Shhh, it's starting," Heine (barely) crooned, eyes to the sky.

Badou was about to attempt a standing position, to tell Heine to _fuck off, no body's gotta be quiet for this goddamn ride, you're s'possed to yell your balls off, now shut up and enjoy it damn you, _however the speed of the ride suddenly lurched, the most holy of G-forces shoving him shoulder to shoulder with the albino, who merely glared at the skinonskin contact.

Badou managed a weak grin back at him and (not so) subtly slid his leg between Heines' as their seat wove in and out of the set path, inches away from a messy crash with other seats, red hair flying and blocking his vision, and _whoa there, _his tummy was starting to bubble in the most unpleasant of ways while the wind blew, the children screamed in delight, and Heine scowled hard enough to ignite clowns.

He prayed [to whoever was listening, God or Mother Earth, or fuckever] that if he did have to purge, it'd be right on that asshole's nice leather shoes. [He'd probably get his ass kicked into next Tuesday, but who the fuck wore leather shoes to a shitty carnival, anyway? Fuckhead was _asking_ for it.]

He could tell that Heine wasn't having a good time [Notwithstanding how he'd taken one good look at the clown passing out balloons, stepped over the dirt threshold of the carnival, opened his mouth and stated, "This is fucking retarded. I'm not gonna have fun."] if the crossing of his arms and the down curled lips weren't evidence enough.

The albino must have seen the look on his face, or noticed the greenish pallor to his otherwise pale ass skin because his scowl deepened into a frown and he shouted with heartfelt feeling over the wind. "Puke on me and I'll rip your fuckin man tit off."

Badou couldn't wrestle his upset stomach _as well as _the irritable albino, thus he leaned his head against the back of the seat and closed his eye, the occasional dry heave rising to the surface. Unfortunately gravity and G forces weren't his friends, not back in the day, nor now, and his head was immediately pulled away from the hard metal seat and thrust against the fluffy white hair of his partner. Badou's eye shot wide open.

_Oh damn, _he was spinning, spinning, not even able to make out the blurry people shapes, and Heine's whole body had stiffened the second Badou's bright red locks mixed with his own snowy white. What the albino did next was anyone's guess. [ Badou deduced it'd all end in someone losing an eye, and then tears. He hoped it wasn't him, actually.]

One pale hand reached over, set itself upon his knee, and then drew back in an awkward pat. It repeated itself twice more. "Uh…there, there. Ride's almost over." Mumbled the baritone of his socially retarded partner.

_This is just too damn much, _Badou thought. He just couldn't help it. He took one look at the hand on his knee, imagined the wide eyed look on the albino's face, and then proceeded to bust out laughing.

Heine bristled on cue, wrenching his hand away with a scowl and a snarl. "Last time I ever comfort _your_ ungrateful ass!"

Some time later, just as Heine had predicted, the ride came to a stop. The two men [puke-y and pissy, respectively] exited in a calm and timely fashion ["GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY WAY, I'M GONNA HURL!"] and then brainstormed over a pair of sodas on what to do next. ["Shit, didja vomit your balls too?"]

Heine eyed his partner critically. "Should you really be drinking that after nearly puking your left nut?"

Badou chose to slurp obnoxiously on his beverage, searching for words. Finally, "And you give a shit because?"

Heine gave a sharp nod. "Good point. Its not your balls I'd miss, anyway." Suddenly, mid-slurp, something caught his eye. A slow twitch raised the corners of his lips into an _almost _smirk.

"I pick next. Let's go on that." He pointed to a rather gloomy backdrop; a creaky, aged, wooden two story house, complete with scratch marks across the wood and mildew stains marring the rails of the stairs.

Badou turned toward his partner, a scathing retort on his lips, [_who the fuck decided we'd take turns? That's not how this relationship works, zombiefuck] _until he saw it. His eye widened to the size of a dinner plate, straw shooting up his left nostril comically, jaw coming unhinged.

"_That_?" He squeaked, glancing at his partner in the desperate hope that he'd change his mind, or there'd be a gun fight to distract him. A very different circumstance greeted him.

_Oh __shit.__ He's pouting. _

Displaying anything _but _a pout-ish pout, since his lip was neither jutted out nor between his teeth [more of a tremble-y frown] the albino gave him a look bordering bloodlust and desire. [It mostly said: we're doing it. No, not the _it_ you want, cuz I'm gonna be a dickweed and make everything difficult.] The corners of Heine's lips curled higher, exhibiting a dangerous row of teeth ready to tear a new one.

"What, are you that big a chicken shit that you can't take a couple ghosts and a zombie or two?"

Badou grimaced, from the straw shoved up his nose and the whole idea. "Naw, I already deal with one zombie on a daily basis. If another one starts to nibble at me I dunno what I'll do." He unhooked the straw from his nostril, took a sip, then thought better of booger infested coke and tossed it.

"…Are you _flirting_ with me?"

"_Fuck no._"

"Mmkay then." Heine's eyes hardened with renewed determination. "We're getting on this shitty ride."

Ten minutes and three traumatized children later [Look here, Heine was responsible: he should've known better than to inform the redhead of the smooshed skittles he had in his ass pocket] Badou found himself seated in yet another little metal car, except this time it was a tad more comfortable and there were, from what his PI instincts had told him while they were still outside in the glorious sunlit ghost-free zone, two straight couples seated behind them. One of which consisting old farts. The logic behind that escaped Badou, when taking into consideration the heart attack ratio in old people. [Oh _why _did that cumbucket insist on the front row seat? Scratch that, Badou knew it was to torture him. The assturd.]

So they eased along the rusty track at an agonizingly slow pace in the near-darkness, pausing long enough for each scheduled spook to jump out at random intervals and scare the beejeezus out of them. [definitely not one called Badou, no sir]

Had he had his eye open, Badou would've judged how his partner was enjoying (fat chance) the ride. However the redhead had his eye squeezed shut, palms covering the patch as well as his shut eye, plus he was doubled over so far forward that his forehead touched the metal safety bar. [_Ah, just like the womb.]_

However, judging by the un-amused sigh from beside him, Heine was disappointed for the second time in a row.

Tossing Badou's latest speculation down the shithole, a zombie with mauled and rotten skin hanging off its bleach pale bones burst from the darkness, on Badou's side of the car mind you, and let out a pained groan, complete with gaping hungry mouth. As expected Badou erupted into a high pitched shriek to add to the symphony of screaming females behind him and promptly jumped halfway into the lap of a startled Heine.

"HOLY SHIT!" Badou voiced what everyone on the ride was thinking and squashed his palms tighter against his eyes. ["What the hell is _that _gonna do? You can't see, dumbshit." "FUCK YOU. IT HELPS MY PHYCHE." ]

A skeptical snort from beside him. "You have your damn eye closed, no reason to get your panties all in a bunch."

Badou growled low in his throat and whipped his head in Heine's general direction, lips twisted into a scowl. "YOU LEAVE MY PANTIES OUT OF THIS. fuck- I mean zombies are freaky!" At the noticeable silence returned, he continued. "YEAH YOU TOO."

Badou felt the albino bristle with indignation, then a hand wrapped around his upper arm and attempted to haul him out of the others lap. "Then get the hell offa me if you suddenly think I'm creepy, asshole. (you didn't exactly call me freaky last night. At least not in a bad way.)"

"Don't haveta tell me twice, motherfucker! You're creepy as hell, always have been always fuckin will be!(you shut the fuck up about that. _Never_ call yourself freaky in the sexual way in my vicinity _ever_ again. Makes me wanna hurl)."

And suddenly, he noticed it. The tell-tale fifth appendage insistently poking his leg. Wrenching his hands from his eye(s), he twisted toward Heine, mouth dropping open.

"DUDE. YOU SERIOUSLY FUCKIN HAVE A BONER RIGHT NOW? I KNEW YOU WERE FUCKED UP IN THE HEAD BUT I SHOULDA FIGURED YOU GOT OFF TO THIS KINDA SHIT. YOU FUCKWIT."

Heine opened his mouth to toss a scathing retort back, however in order to thoroughly ruin the mood, a swamp [well, it might have been from the swamp. Did have leaves and mud seaweed hanging from its body…okay, sea monster?] creature shuffled from out of the void of darkness and howled obnoxiously.

A kind of awkward silence settled upon the car, effectively hushing the snuggly couples (and sleepy elder couple) in the back into quiet.

Only to be trounced by Badou's impromptu opinion. "FUCK OFF!"

The monster stared, lowered its previously raised arms, and shuffled through the concealed [my ass] back door, muttering sullenly about his contract misinterpreting the interaction of the audience.

Heine cleared his throat. "Look man, I don't have a boner. You're just hearing things."

Badou could only stare in stunned silence. "…..What?"

Heine wiggled in his seat as a response, predictably crossing his arms over his chest and scowled. "Just what I said, asshat. Clean out them ears and listen."

His face was the very picture of severity, that is until Badou reached between their intertwined legs and grabbed the albino's clearly apparent hard on through his pants, screaming, "YOU FEEL WITH YOUR COCK, NOT HEAR, COCKBREATH!"

Heine groaned and clapped a heavy hand over his mouth, mechanically bucking into his partners hand, while his own free hand gripped the safety bar in front of them for dear life. Badou smirked, fear momentarily forgotten, and leaned in closely to the point of breathing huskily into the albino's ear, crimson hair draped across Heine's shoulder and tickling his cheek.

"How do ya like me now, bitch?" To emphasize the point he tugged _hard_, eliciting a strangled moan to seep through the cracks of Heine's fingers.

"Oh, young love," a reedy thin voice wheezed from the back of the car. "Remember when we made love in the Tunnel of Love, Harold?" A symphony of snores responded for the old man.

Badou and Heine were a bit busy engaging in tonsil hockey to comment on the loving couple, eventually managing to squash the albino into one corner of the seat, fly down, while the redhead locked his knees against Heines, trapping him against a hard place and two hard places [a.k.a their cocks]. But thankfully that was momentarily taken care of.

_Unfortunately_ they found themselves rudely interrupted by the light and the gawking crowd at the end of the tunnel.

Badou released Heine's mouth with a _pop_, straightened up, smoothed back his hair with a palm, and wiped the imaginary dust [and real cum] from his hands.

"There's nothing to see here folks, move along. Nothing to see here, yep, he just uh, had a problem with his zipper, uh huh. I was helping him, that's it. No molestation or hand jobs involved."

Heine snarled, shoved the redhead from his lap, and evacuated the ride. "Yeah," he played along for once. "I had some of the skin caught."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Badou frowned around his fresh cigarette, eyes darting from side to side in a sweep of the premises for his moronic- rather, badass partner. Clamoring children, lovely couples, chick with big titties [his eye lingered a tad more than necessary], more couples, more children, and a group of titties- er, fetching young women. But alas, no moody albino asshole.

"Where the fuck _is_ that skank? I go to piss, two minutes flat, and he just takes off! Son of a bitch."

He cocked his hands on his hips and turned, gaze unexpectedly falling upon the pucker-y lips of what appeared to be a goldfish, merrily dog (fish) paddling in place.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" He yelped, jumping about a foot away from the abomination.

Heine thrust the temporary home of the pudgy goldfish toward Badou, blinking owlishly at the redhead. "Here."

Badou's frown grew immensely. "The hell am I supposed to do with this?"

"Jeffry."

"Huh?" Badou raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth sagging. He prayed zombiefuck wasn't expecting him to eat it or some shit. Because that was just savage, and the time he speared a dead bird and held it up to his mouth was just acting. He wasn't _really _gonna eat it, honest. He'd rather eat shit from Kiri's place.

Using the element of surprise, the albino snatched Badou's hand and wrapped it around the knot on the plastic bag. "This is Jeffry. He's yours. Welcome."

That said, Heine spun on his heel and stalked away, expecting the redhead to follow.

Badou scowled. He plucked the cigarette from his lips. Spewed a stream of smoke into the thick humid air. Raised the plastic bag at eyelevel and stared.

"Creepy little bugger, aren't ya?" Then he lowered the fish to his side and pranced after the albino, neither grateful for the present nor amused by being left behind.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Heine mewled into the sour cigarette laced mouth covering his, fingers working the fly of Badous jeans as the redhead tugged the albino's pants past his knees to settle in a bunch around his ankles, cursing colorfully as he battled with, and successfully maneuvered one pale leg out of the pant leg, sliding between the parted thighs.

"About fuckin time," Heine hissed as he pulled up for air, simultaneously freeing Badou's almost painfully hard cock from its confines. He wrapped his fingers around it and began to stroke, sending Badou's shuddering form lunging for his lips again, gun calloused fingers lugging the albino's pumping hand away not long after.

"I don't fuckin think so." Badou snarled, pinning Heine's hand to his side, the other drawing one of the albino's legs back, displaying the prize of the night to the stale air of the carriage. He aligned his already wet cock, nudged the head _just _past the clenching ring of muscle, and looked up with bated breath.

"Sweet buttery Jesus. _Heine_-"

Heine waited for the initial 'you're so fuckin tight,' or 'nngh, its so _good_.' Certainly not: "That goddamn fish is staring at me! Make 'm stoppit!"

So Heine did what anyone else thrown into the situation would.

"Badou." He yanked Badou's chin back toward his face, his mouth slipping open to exhibit two rows of sinister sharp teeth as he snarled a warning. "If you fucking don't _move _right now, I'll make your shitty cock 'stoppit.' Permanently. Comprende?"

Badou, needing not to be told twice, or hell, once, nodded. "Si…" And slammed his hips forward.

There were many things that could (and would) go wrong when fucking in an elevated ride, aside from the creepy fish's ogling.

The main one being the landing.

Badou climbed off of Heine, swept his damp hair back from his face, straightened up, and wiped his wet hands of imaginary dust and real cum.

"Nothing to see here folks, he was having a heart attack! I was uh…giving him mouth to mouth, yeah. Not fuckin him in the Ferris Wheel carriage, nope."

Heine rolled his eyes and hauled his pants up from around his ankles. "Badou, do your goddamn fly up."

Badou's eye dared to peek down. "Haha, whoops."

_Ziiiiiip _went the zipper.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Holy shit that was probably the weirdest/coolest thing I've ever written. Yes, seriously. Thanks for reading! So far this is the longest I've made any DOGS!related drabble of mine. So, yay me! Hopefully I'll be updating more regularly. Please, PLEASE don't give up on me yet. I'm striving to make this the best, and your support helps me a great deal! If you have any prompts you'd like to throw at me, or even something you'd like to see happen, just drop me a line, ya'll. I can't guarantee I'll do it for sure as a full on drabble, but I sure as hell will fit it into an OMAKE. So I'll shut up now and let you review. As always, I LOVE YOU GUYS TONS. I ALSO LOVE JEFFERY. Cuz he's adorable. Also times 2, THANKS A BUTTLOAD to KiraXsama for being the epitome of awesome sauce, and omgpotatochips (I have no idea what your pn is on here) for listening to my bitching and giving me advice. YOU'RE BOTH AMAZING.

As always, review baby. -wink-


	8. Chapter 8: The Trouble with Megane

Disclaimer: Don't fuckin own

Notes: Uhm I'M STILL ALIVE. All I gotta say is this is a request fulfillment for TaintedTeaParty. Let's party, homes! Warnings for Kinda!sex, language, and death.

Summery: _will you think about writing something where Badou wants to get freaky in the middle of a job where silence is critical? _Haha, as if Badou Nails can be silenced.

8. _Megane _

"And so, gentlemen, this is why we need to make a united front against these two men. If not us, then who? They'll ruin our businesses and kill us just like they did Melvin and Ted."

The group of men ranked from top boss to sniveling grunt, but all had one thing in common: the crude mockery of business suits they wore in order to play down some form of power. That and massive boredom in the face of a Secret Meeting among members. Members numbering into huge turnout: fifteen.

"These two assholes are totally raping our numbers," at this a few sniggers sliced through the tension like Death's Scythe. "we need _something _to fuck them up! So I'm opening up the floor for ideas. I expect you all to listen to each other and not act like rude fucks. Got it?"

There was the buzz of conversation, _the boss's never done nothing like this before! Is he fuckin crazy? We've gotta get the hell outta town before we're next, _before the man at the podium- a broad shouldered, tan skinned man with a wide handlebar mustache- cleared his throat and shot the evil eye about the lobby, ushering silence upon the thugs.

One man dared to raise his hand and prattled off into a long, distinctly complicated plan involving explosives shoved into the orifices of the two 'fuckheaded trouble makers', followed by two bullet riddled bodies and a brisk swim with the fishes.

As the thugs waited with bated breath, twitching knife-hands, and overflowing ashtrays, [which were in reality empty cans of beer] a certain green eyed man was chewing sullenly on the end of a cherry flavored sucker, wishing more than anything to _not be there_.

He adjusted the _one-size-fits-all-his-cock _knit beanie which was stuffed to the brim with his bright red hair, and eyed the clock nailed to the back wall of the establishment. It read ten thirty seven, give or take a millisecond [his eyesight isn't what he'd like it to be, sans the missing eye] and that cockgobbler _still _wasn't present and accounted for. For all the times that albino fluff ball ragged on him for being late, this time _he _was late, and _fuck yes _Badou was gonna give him hell for it!

But honestly, Badou mused to himself whilst casting a wary glance around the room full of Let's Kill White Hair and Eyepatch supporters,[ Thug Trife Anonymous, if you will] you'd think they made these fancy shmancy suits a little more easy on the frontal agenda.

He'd had a major fredggie [ that's a wedggie where one's balls and or cock is shoved and rearranged in the most unsightly of manners, usually folded slightly _inside_, or under one's leg] for a guesstimation of an hour or so, and because _a certain assface _decided smoking would further blow their cover, poor Badou had to go without his nicotine. Upon further pondering the redhead deduced that the fredggie could be due to one of his Ingrams intruding in his crotch area.

Just when Badou was about to slip out the back door, _fuck the mission if somebody won't bother to show up, _a path of light sliced through the dimly lit room by way of the back door opening. His fingers ceased twitching around his beer can.

Initially the redhead didn't give a shit and took a swig of beer, pegging the newest arrival for a late-comer who'd probably get his ass hounded on for the non-incognito entry.

The second the lean suit-clad man began to stride his way, with that familiar little gait that looked entirely too saucy on this specific set of legs, he knew it had to be.

A smidge of beer jumped down the wrong pipe, and up into his sinuses.

_No fucking way, _did he actually dye his hair?

However, the thought that effortlessly invaded his mind was something along the lines of, _hoshit. He's wearing specs. I-I dunfuckingno.. This is just. Blowing my mind. _This was all in the midst of hacking a lung and nearly his balls, mind you.

The New Arrival settled beside Badou without a hint of recognition towards him, eyes front and center over the lenses of his thick, black glasses. [Badou was vaguely aware that they were called 'emo' glasses, nowadays]

Badou could only stare in mute shock, jaw nearly reaching the floor. Figuratively speaking. His breathing hitched just a bit, his eye wide and questioning.

"_What the fuck is your problem?" _Heine hissed out of the corner of his mouth, eyes remaining on the newest speaker- a dwarf-y little man with a scar across his forehead and a plan just as violent and petty as the one before it. Involving a rocket launcher. Nice.

"I never figured my feelings for you would arise like this." Badou deadpanned, drawing the attention of about three of the nearest thugs, puzzled expressions marring their features.

A sharp pain, distinctly shoe-shaped, struck him in the shin.

"_Keep it down, fuckeater. You blow our cover and I'll blow your brains out._"

The most disturbing of grins, tugging his thin, chapped lips high above the pink of his gums, stretched across Badou's lips from the implications. And was that the start of drool in the corner of his mouth?

One thug noticed, cocked an eyebrow at the expression, and held Heine's menacing glare for half a second before looking away in a flustered puff of cigarette smoke.

"_With my gun." _Heine elaborated. Badou readily settled down, mouth twisting into a pout, throwing off most of the surrounding thugs suspicions.

"_Besides,"_ The albino- rather, raven haired young man, continued, propping his hand in his chin and effectively shielding his mouth. "_its just a fucking suit, settle the fuck down." _

B-but but but but but….Badou couldn't settle the fuck down, as the albino eloquently put it. Didn't that asshole _realize _what this was doing to him?! He'd been sitting there for half an hour, cigarette-less, surrounded by testosterone-lugging, badass motherfuckers, and now this bitchass was just gonna _walk in here with that outfit, those shitty glasses, that fucked up dye job, and the the the slicked the fuck back hair and expect him to __not __freak out?! _

"I haven' seen you round these parts before…" started the thug to Heine's left. "What do ya do?"

Badou licked his lips in anticipation.

The corners of the albino's lips twitched into the barest of smiles as he slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger. "I'm a treasurer."

_Oh __hell __no. _

The man's brows furrowed in confusion. "Huh. Didn' know we had one'a those."

Badou hadn't even noticed the antsy little jiggle of his foot, knocking into the table and shaking the drinks all around. Didn't spot the thoroughly aggravated thug members casting him annoyed glares. He did, however, taste the splintered sucker stick in his mouth, then spat it out with disdain.

He also noticed the sudden tightness in his pants, which he would blame on the gun stuffed in his pants when all was said and done. Was it hot in here, or was it just him? He was getting a little lightheaded too, wonder what that was all about. If he had a mirror, he was sure his face would be as red as his hair.

He climbed to his feet, head buzzing, ignoring the furious look Heine graced him with, and declared, "Show me where the bathroom is."

Numerous heads whipped his way, there was a buzz of conversation, but Badou paid no mind.

Heine's glower darkened. "_If you had checked this place out like I __told your dumbass to, __you would know where it is." _

A little louder, he stated, "But I don't have to go." There was a glint behind those glasses that Badou wouldn't put off on the lighting this time. A spike of pleasure burst up his spine.

Badou's eye narrowed. _You're gonna be like that, huh? _

He slowly reached out and, with just the tips of his fingers, knocked his can of cold beer off the table and onto the albino's lap.

There was a kind of pregnant pause.

"Well, now ya do."

Crimson eyes widened to roughly the size of dinner plates.

Had Badou stood still for a good five seconds, he would've been able to pinpoint the exact moment where Heine would choose in that fucked up brain of his to act, [I.e punch him in the throat] however he immediately snatched the albino by the wrist, hauled him to his feet, and dragged him off to the back of the establishment, to where the bathroom surely lay.

--------------------------- -----------------------------

"You obviously know where the goddamn bathroom is you ass!" Heine snarled, dabbing the cheap wads of toilet paper against his crotch, thanking Christ on toast that whomever Bishop stole this suit from was probably too dead to want it back. "What the fuck were you trying to pull!?"

While Heine was bitching and moaning over the injustice that is instant beer to the cock, Badou paced back and forth, muttering under his breath in broken sentences.

Heine chose that moment to glare up. "Well, what the hell was so urgent that you had to get me in here!?"

Badou met his gaze. "We're gonna fuck."

"…..Come again?" Heine blinked. Wiggled a pinky in his ear cause he must not have heard right. Cocked his head to the side, _maybe there was something blocking it. _If he stared long enough at the fire crotch, perhaps he'd burst into flames. Wishful thinking got you nowhere.

Badou wasn't listening though, chin in his hand, a contemplative expression on his face. "No, that's not right."

Heine wasn't sure just _what_ wasn't right, but he had a gut feeling he wouldn't like it as much as Badou probably would. The assball.

"Could we fuck? No, that sucks ass too….uhm, how about we fuck? Nuh uh. Damn. Fff." Suddenly, he clapped his hands together, creating a slap of sound echoing off the tiled walls. A grin which imitated his previous one, sans drool, lifted his lips back away from his yellow-y teeth.

"Let's fuck, cockgobbler."

Heine hopped up onto the edge of the sink and looked at Badou, really looked at him. There was a pause in which the silence could be sliced apart with a knife, or blown apart with many explosives. "It's the glasses, isn't it?"

Badou nodded in rapid succession, hat flopping to the ground, and he crept forward on trembling legs. "Yeah, I admit it, so how bout we take care of both our problems?"

"Problems? I dunno what you mean, Badou-kun. I'm perfectly fine." Heine was relentless. He adjusted his glasses with middle finger and thumb this time, reaching up to snag a few stray hairs away from his forehead. "The longer we stay in here, the more suspicious those bastards will get. Dudes don't go in groups to the toilet, unless they're up to some fishy shit."

"You want it, man, I can see it," Badou babbled, placing his hands on the albino's hips, thumbs smoothing circles into the skin. He leaned in close and pressed his lips to the other mans' jawt, fingers feverishly working their way up to the buttons of Heine's shirt. "Don't be such a fuckin cocktease, asshole."

Heine frowned. "The name of the game was keep your big ass mouth shut. Your dumbass obviously couldn't do that. I oughtta kick your ass in past your shoulder blades for it."

Badou detached his mouth from Heine's jaw, revealing bright reddening skin. "I'll shut the fuck up this time, I promise. Cross my heart and hope to fly, put a needle in my pie."

"That's not how the saying goes, stupid." But Heine was smirking with the most malicious gleam behind those specs. He raised his hand, and Badou felt the flash of alarm jolt through his veins, [_maybe he was more pissed about this job than I thought_] but it was a false alarm, for Heine just tugged the knot of the redheads' tie.

"But I suppose you were bound to fuck up sometime along the way." He pulled the tie free with one hand, the other grasping Badou's chin. "Least this way we can guarantee you'll be quiet. Now open your mouth."

Badou bristled, sensing a plan he wouldn't quite enjoy as much as the albino fuckface would. He was fuckin horny, but he wasn't gonna let this moody vampire walk all over him. "Hey, you're not the boss'a-" His mouth was promptly stuffed full of black silk imitation tie.

Heine's smirk widened. "Let's exploit your fucked up fetish, shall we?"

---------------------- -----------------------

Three beers, twenty minutes, and four speeches later, Bobby felt the need to piss like a water buffalo. He hoisted himself up off his chair, wobbled past a few of his cronies, and made his way to the bathroom.

Upon unzipping and letting 'er rip, he was surprised.

There he was, taking a glorious, warm piss, and this here fucker was pounding into some bitch against the sink, long red hair bobbing up and down, muffled moans slipping past the tie in his mouth. [oohh, kinky shit] He snapped his hips forward, burying himself over and over into her tight, warm- hold on now, Bobby boy. No need to go quoting those shitty excuses for smut novels his sister made him read. Regardless, he was putting it to her. Hard and fast.

The first emotion was anger: those asshats **lied** to him! They said not to bring your bitches to this meeting! And what do ya know, someone did, and was fucking her in secret. Incognito, per se. Sharing was caring, right? Why not show her off, she had a nice set of legs, anyway.

The second, well, he was getting a little hard, to be honest. He couldn't exactly see her face, since the fucker was blocking his view, but she must've had a pretty enough face to sneak her into the meeting and fuck.

The bitch's pale legs were locked around the fuckers back, pulling him ever closer to her, the fucker, man, he was letting her have it and, "Nngh, _Badou_!"

_Wait a second. _That sounded like a dude's voice. But naw, it couldn't be right, cuz, cuz none of their guys were fags [at least not upfront, you always do your business behind closed and locked doors], but. The dude's mouth was gagged. With the tie.

Sweaty red hair swayed to and fro. Red hair. Now that he thought about it, no one he knew in the organization had red hair. And there, tied around the fuckers head was a thin, black strap, like a kind of…

_Eyepatch. _

Bobby released his half hard cock. "_Oh shit_." The fucker moved to the side, and now, Bobby could clearly see lust filled crimson eyes staring back at him. Crimson eyes, like death, blood, and most of all, like….

_White Hair. _

Bobby backed away, planning to alert the others that _foshit, Eyepatch and White Hair were infiltrating [each other] their meeting, _thankfully not interrupting the two lovers.

The second he hobbled to the door, pants still around his ankles, mouth open in a shout- a series of gun shots cracked through the air.

Bobby dropped to a dead heap on the floor.

Badou groaned and spit out the tie into the sink. "Huh, wha- what's goin on?" He stilled mid-hump and twisted his neck around in order to stare at the body. "Well would ya look at that. We've gotta peeper. A really goddamn dead one."

"Dumbass." If the albino was referring to his red haired butt buddy or the now dead man on the ground, it was a mystery. He lowered Badou's gun anyway, placing it in the greasy sink beside them.

"Heine's big mouth strikes again," Badou chirped smugly, laying a wet smooch against the albino's lidded eye and tightened his grip on the others hips.

Heine smacked him in rebuttal, scowling hard. "Hurry up and finish, asshole, before the other fucks figure out there's a dead guy in here." One can only wish they _didn't _hear the gunshots.

Badou grudgingly rubbed his shoulder and grinned. "Whatever you say, megane-chan." (1)

The mobsters carried on oblivious to the fact that the subjects of their scheming were in retrospect, getting it on right under their noses.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

OMAKE:

"You know, he's never been happy."

Badou cocked an eyebrow at the priest. "Well no shit, man. He's got two moods: pissed the fuck off and angst bitch."

Bishop turned sightless eyes on the redhead. "But when he's with you, he seems to have this aura about him."

"Yeah, its killing intent."

Bishop chuckled. "No, my boy, he's almost happy."

"What you saying, Bishop?" Badou frowned. Leave it to the Jesus Freak to throw something new out there just when he about had the vampire assface figured out.

"I'm saying, take care of him." The Bishop smiled a secret smile.

"YOU'RE NOT GIVING AWAY THE FUCKIN BRIDE YOU LOLICON! QUIT ACTING LIKE THE FATHER GIVING AWAY HIS DAUGHTER!"

Upon arrival ten minutes later, Heine had only one question. "Didja eat that fuzzy sushi again? I keep telling you, man, that shits' gonna kill you someday. You're fuckin green."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I DID IT. IT'S FOUR THIRTY, AND I'M STILL NOT THAT HAPPY WITH IT. But as long as TaintedTeaParty is a little happy, then my job is done. I didn't really mean to give Thug Bobby such a big role. REST IN PEACE, DUDE.

Uh. Megane = glasses in Japanese, as far as I know. You know, like those famous Glasses Characters? Yeah.

So that's all I got for this addition of The Bang Chronicles. I'M JUST KEEPING IT REAL. Oh, that first line Badou says in the bathroom isn't mine. It belongs to the anime Bakemonogatari. Great show.

So, as always, review for me, cuties! And hey, if you wanna try your hand at making requests, go ahead, but I warn you: it'll become fucked up out of proportion. It could turn out to be what you don't expect. Or become a shortass little omake.

PEACE OUT, SPACEMAN. 3333333

KES


	9. Chapter 9: Trick or Treat, Trampburger?

Disclaimer: I've raped the characters personalities and habits and lives so many times…do you REALLY think anyone would grant me the ownership of DOGS?

Notes: Yes, yes, yes, I've been neglecting you guys, 'm sorry. I love you though its just stuff irl is annoying as fuck. So here's actually something I was never going to put forth into the light of day (or your screens..). I can't believe I'm doing this…Also, I've been rping with the lovely NekoKami Ai, role playing these douchbag DOGS boys, and after the mention of Hitler, Bishop sprang out. Enjoy. Hopefully. SIDENOTE: Badou Nail's date of birth here is NOT cannon. I've no idea when the fuck it is, but shall send porn, cake, and a dress for Heine when I do.

Summary: _"LOOK AT ALL OF THESE KIDS IN THEIR FRILLY PRINCESS DRESSES! *SWOON* OHHHH JEEEEESUS, THIS IS WHAT HALLOWEEN IS ALL ABOUT~~~~ 3" _Ernest "Bishop" Rammsteiner, Via RP Halloween morning by KinkyEyepatchShit

9: Trick or Treat, Trampburger? 

Badou Nails sighed into the beer can attached to his lips, cigarette dangling from his fingers as he stared at his door. His battered, bloodied, food stained door.

_Happy fucking birthday to me…_

That thought in mind, he lowered the beer to his side, stuck the cig between his lips, and shuffled around for the keys_. FuckingSHIT. Where oh where have my shitty keys gone? He checked his front pockets, ass pockets, jacket pockets, NOTHING. Fuck._

_Oh right_…With a groan he bent down, set the can off to the side, and pried his left shoe off, only to be quickly blasted with the foul air of his dirty sock.

_In need of a goddamn wash…maybe that albino fuckwad'll let me wash 'em at his place. Probably not, the asshole. You'd think after all the hot, [albeit awkward] delicious fucking I give him, he'd man up and let me use his shitty washing machine. But noooo._

There, beneath his heel, his apartment key shined smugly in the fluorescent lights. Bitching rants involving the icicle-up-ass albino princess were forgotten in light of the new circumstances.

Finally, FINALLY, he stuck the key in the lock, but the door slowly, eerily, creaked open at on its own accord.

_Well shit. SOMEBODY forgot to lock the goddamn door again. Stupid Heine._ [Lies, it was always Badou, and THAT is why he's always 'getting kidnapped, beat up, and then I have to come to your goddamn rescue, a gun about halfway rammed up my--,' end quote]

But just in case his accusations were actually for a valid intruder, Badou released one of his guns from its confines, [the waistband of his jeans, coldcoldcold against his cock because of course with no clean laundry there were no awesome pickle boxers] and slowly pushed the door open, wincing as it let out another horrible screech.

Badou let out a horrible screech [girly howl] of his own when the lights shot open, momentarily blinding him.

"Welcome home, assface. Took you fuckin long enough."

Rapidly blinking away the spots dancing across his vision, Badou realized _Hey. Hey that voice is familiar._

"Heine? What the FUCK are you doing breaking into my place?!" He shrieked indignantly, lowering the gun to his side but deciding against stowing it- just in case.

"As always you didn't LOCK the goddamn door, moron. Its not wonder you're always kidnapped and shit…useless fuckwit." [and its not like he had much to be robbed of in the first place, not even good hard liquor]

Badou's vision instantly cleared, a retort was scalding on his tongue ready to be unleashed, but his brain couldn't register what his eye beheld.

"W-w-w…?" He felt his eye [and groin] bulge considerably, the cigarette in his mouth tumbled to the ground. His lips were unable to form words.

Heine scowled, pink dusting his usually-pale cheeks, and tugged at one stubborn black-lace stocking that refused to stay up on the pale creamy calves. [Stupid Bishop molested him into it with all his _OHHHH JESSSSUSSSS, THE STOCKINGS! THAT'S NOT HOW ITS DONE, HERE, LET ME DEMONSTRATE] _

"Happy birthday, you bastard." Heine grabbed the ends of the frilly black and pink skirt and bent at the waist for a curtsy like a true lady. Of course, the army boots on his feet ruffled the image a smidge, but Badou couldn't quite find the spirit to give a flying fuck.

When he raised himself upright Badou was there, flaring nostrils, red in the face and mumbling nonsense words under his breath. The redhead wrapped both arms around the albinos waist, one hand diving below the inner ruffles of the skirt to toy with the soft globes of Heine's ass [_ohohoho what a risqué coincidence, ay numbnuts?] _and, in a voice dripping with the authority of ship captains and army commanders he declared,

"THANK YOU MA FOR DECIDING AGAINST THAT ABORTION BY CLOTHES HANGER!"

Badou swallowed any retort Heine would have made with his lips.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bishop: *straightens* I DO NOT CONCEDE WITH HITLER. OR HIS MUSTACHE.

**Heine: You're a blonde.**

**Heine: -snort-**

**Heine: Hitler's minion...eheheheh!**

Bishop: welll those uniforms WERE pretty cute...

**Hiene: OAO**

Bishop: and this one Jewish rabbi stole my wallet...

**Heine: ....what's your stance on aryans?**

Bishop: *shrugs* I don't really have an opinion. I don't need any special name to let me and the rest of this shitty world's population know how beautifully stunning I am~~

**Heine: ...I said ARYAN. Not you, moron.**

Bishop: Same difference, teehee~

**Heine: ....huh. Nill's aryan.**

Bishop: ISN'T SHE GORGEOUS?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

GUESS WHAT SHE'S GOING TO DRESS UP AS FOR HALLOWEEN?!?!?!?

**Heine: You celebrate Halloween?**

Bishop: Of course. Candy is a special treat.

get it?

like

**Heine: Aren't you a priest?**

Bishop: trick or treat.

*chuckles*

**Heine: -sighs-**

Bishop: *fiddles with collar* oh right THATS what this thing means. Priestly hood. Can't forget.

**Heine: So...what's she gonna be?**

Bishop: .

**Heine: -blink-**

**Huh?**

Bishop: *beams* SHE IS GOING TO BE A BUNNY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**Heine: ...........**

**wow.**

**Just wow.**

**And WHAT does this thing means? -rubs his neck-**

Bishop: No not THAT collar, my child. *fiddles with the stark white collar of his robes*

**Heine:.............................................**

**What does THAT thing mean then?**

**You certainly aren't pure.**

Bishop: *hmphs* It means my great dedication to God.

**Heine:........**

**.........are you serious?**

Bishop: *nods*

**Heine: ......**

**How can you even tell if its white?**

**You're blind.**

Bishop: *chuckles* Oh Heine-kun. Everyone knows the priests collar is white.

**Heine: ...you're not a priest.**

**/**

Bishop: *waves hands* This is a church

**Heine: There's no way.**

Bishop: I have a bible

here...somewhere..

**Heine: ......**

Bishop: and .......I HAVE A CANE.

**Heine:....Badou comes to this church, an--------**

**..a cane?...**

Bishop: Yes.

**Heine: Is that all it takes?**

Bishop: No, no no. a great dedication to God, remember?

**Heine: And with that dedication to god, you dress people up in frilly outfits with their soul's well being in mind?**

Bishop: Its not just that. It takes a certain level of dedication to trick ones into the frilly outfits.

Usually I just nibble on them a little and they're putty in my arms....

----------------------------------------------------------------------

SO that's the end of this…this THING. God, I don't even know you guys. Happy Halloween and all that, eat lots of candy but brush your teeth at least TWICE this weekend, okay? Seriously gingivitis is gross and stinky.

Heine-- NekoKami Ai

Bishop--- Moi (YES I KNOW. THE FUCK, KES? I really…love this guy..)

I DON'T HATE JEWISH PEOPLE AND NEITHER DOES BISHOP. Hitler was a douche. AND I NEITHER REFUTE NOR CONCEDE WITH ABORTION. MEANING I DON'T GIVE A RATS ASS ABOUT IT SINCE I'M NOT HAVING CHILDREN.

I HOPE YOUR EYES DIDN'T BURN. ILU GUYS. I'll try to be better with updates, especially now that I have two more people to stay on my ass about it. 3

Review mah darlings~~~3333


	10. Chapter 10: The P Word

Disclaimer: HEY. HEY THERE. HELLO. DON'T OWN.

AN: Well hello there! I'm not dead. For those of you who care. All I can say is, life's bullshit has caught up to me, keeping me away from this delectable series. Unfortunately, this is the last one in THIS little number. I'm sure I'll have more DOGS stuff, eventually, but I feel like I have to leave off on a good note with you guys, this story, and Heine's insatiable ways. So here we are. If you haven't been squeamish before, you probably won't be now. Coughcrossdressingcough. Enjoy!

10. The P Word

Like many times in his life, one Badou Nails, PI and all around chicken shit, found himself fleeing for his life ("I WAS EVADING MY TAXES. JUST LIKE THE REST OF YOU FUCKERS!! NOT INVESTIGATING A CHEAT SCANDAL OR SHIT LIKE THAT! FUCK OFF ALREADYYYYY!"), dodging street venders, crack whores, regular ol' joes, and whatnot, cigarette clenched tightly between his heaving lips as he proclaimed his innocence and non suspicion to the streets. Loudly. He took a sharp left and ducked behind a dumpster that was in the process of being raided by a homeless man in rags, and squeezed his single eye shut, not daring to even inhale from his cigarette.

"Where'd that fucking fire crotch go?!"

"I dunno boss, he was right in fron'a us, couldn't 'ave got far!"

"Right, that little fucker has to be close. Borris, take that street. Moe, you go that way. I'll check this area. We're gonna kill that fucking Eyepatch bastard. We won't be off-ed like Melvin and them. Get going!"

"Yes Boss!"

A few moments of relative silence [if not for the rustling and crazed muttering of the homeless man pawing through the random pornos and banana peels piled high] later, Badou cracked his teary eye open and peered around. No gun-toting, howling, bloodthirsty mob fuckers in sight. Kickass. The redhead unfolded himself from the fetal position, took a soothing inhale of his cigarette, and headed for his shitty-ass apartment.

Upon arriving at the door, safe, sound, and desperately needing to take a calming dump, Badou heaved a sigh of relief. [_That fuckin' albino wad of dicks didn't even answer his goddamn phone when I needed him to….cockgobbler]_

That thought in mind, the redhead turned the key and pushed the door open. And was met with an obnoxiously loud add for used cars booming from the flickering television screen. The couch whined in protest as a head of pure white hair popped into view, hooded crimson eyes regarding him with boredom.

"Wow, you're actually on time today. Nice job, dumb shit." Heine took a glance riddled with mock concern at his wrist, imaginary watch to be specific, then his gaze flickered to the redhead. "C'mere."

Badou scowled, the corners of his lips drooping with the weight of the cigarette as well as from the total power of his frown. "Fuck you, asshole! I got my ass chased all around the city, you didn't pick up your goddamn phone to come help me, and the minute I walk through that fuckin' door here you are givin' me orders! Fuck. You." The redhead turned on his heel, with every intent to just walk away and sulk in his room, wishing the albino fuckhead would leave, when Heine's voice stopped him.

"You'll like this. Come here." He was using The Voice. That husky, wanton, lustful, tempting voice filled his ears and sank into his brain cells, made his cock twitch, and sure enough Badou found his long legs carrying him over to the couch, which he peddled around in about two seconds, only to freeze in his tracks once the image before him blazed into his eyeball.

"Wh-….Hei…..H-how…fffffffff…." Coherent sentences weren't going to come to the redhead any time soon. Heine smirked up at him, his entire body splayed across the full length of the couch. That wasn't the problem.

It was what the albino was wearing that was damn near disturbing. Disturbing if Badou's cock hadn't have been as rock hard as it was in that moment. _That was fast _is what he would have thought, had he the ability to piece together his jumbled inner thoughts.

Heine lay on his belly, one hand propped in his chin, the other toying lazily with the remote, and with his long body draped seductively across the couch, it made what he was wearing all the more enticing.

"P-p-p….." Badou sputtered, his single eye roughly the size of a dinner plate. A very green, lust filled one. His cigarette had long since tumbled from his lips and had landed in a smoking heap on the piece of shit carpet. [it was either that shade of brown naturally or someone butchered their cheating husband in the room and the blood had dried into a nice, rusty brown. The smell was much to be desired, nearly confirming Badou's suspicions.]

Heine raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Badou-kun? Is there something wrong?" The tell-tale smirk never faltered, even as Badou took a few shaky steps toward him, index finger, propelled by his trembling arm, pointed at the albino's rear end.

"Pa…p-pan…"

Heaving a sigh, crimson eyes meeting the ceiling in an exasperated roll, Heine snagged Badou's wrist and planted the redheads hand on his ass. "Damn, you're brain dead. More so than usual." His smirk widened. "Just as planned."

The albino was abruptly jolted from basking in the glory of his victory by the formerly limp hand placed against his ass cheek; it squeezed, hard, and Badou's second hand flew up in order to grasp at the other half globe that is Heine's ass.

A strangled moan escaped from the albino's lips, eyes, clouded with need, peering up at his partner with uncertainty. "Ba…Badou? You still in there, cockrangler?" [_Maybe I should have used the maid outfit instead, ease him into the whole idea]_

"Al…al…." Badou literally popped a squat on the couch, forcing Heine to shift over enough for the two of them to fit moderately well [if not for the albino's knees squashed against the opposite arm of the couch, and half of Badou's gangly form hanging clear off the other side], and slipped one hand beneath the cottony folds of the prized pink, lacey panties snugly fit around Heine's posterior, boney fingers tracing the albino's crack, dipping dangerously low. Heine shuddered and his cock jumped to life accordingly, breath caught in his throat. [_Shit. Okay. Maybe…maybe this was a good idea. Nice going, me.]_

Badou's face was bright red and his nostrils were flaring, greedily sucking in as much air as he could; his lips and tongue battled for speech.

Heine sat up and left Badou's insistent hands where they were, and instead of punching him in the nutsac for being so forward and surprising the shit out of him, he used a pretty forward move himself, and dropped into the lap of said very flustered redhead.

"Al?" He inquired, rocking his straining arousal against Badou's whilst he leaned forward and nipped at the redheads chin.

"Al…alb…" Badou's body still knew the motions, even if he was clearly lacking in the brain department for the moment, and he pushed Heine back down against his crotch, hands clenched tight, and he tilted his head back to give the albino more access to his throat.

"Alb what now?" Heine snarled, brows hitching together in the form of a scowl. The fucker needed to pick his jaw up off the floor and fuck him already. He didn't have time for all this stupid bullshit.

All of a sudden, Badou wrenched the panties down Heine's hips and howled at the top of his lungs, [neither gave a flying fuck about the complaints neighbors were sure to express]

"ALBINO COCKSUCKERS SHOULD NOT BE WEARING LAUNGERIE FOR MORE THAN FIVE MINUTES WHEN IN MY PRESENCE! THIS COMES FUCKING OFF, RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!!"

Heine stared at the redhead, baffled, before succumbing to laughter. "Whatever you fucking say, Eyepatch-sama."

"Don't call me that, motherfucker!"

"Yes, yes, calm the fuck down. About time you took these fuckers off. They were starting to chafe. Not to mention my dick was practically hanging out."

"The majority of me don't wanna know but…where the hell did you get this sexy little number?"

"I know it'll take a lot of effort. But think. Who the fuck supplies me with most of this shit? Use that useless noggin' of yours. There's only one lolicon creeper in these parts."

"Yeah, that's…that's what I was afra- ….did you say there's more?"

"Yes Badou. There's more. The sooner you bend me over and plow me, the sooner we can try out all those little goodies."

"….I think I might have to thank Bishop. And then apologize."

"Huh? What the fuck for?"

"He's never. Ever. _EVER_ gettin' these back. Finders fuckin' keepers."

"Kinkyass piece of shit…"

"HEY. FUCK YOU."

"Well yeah, that's the point, Badou-kun." Heine dutifully rolled his eyes and snagged the zipper of Badou's jeans, tugging it down in two seconds flat and exposing the redheads hardened arousal to the air. He trailed his hand down Badou's clothed stomach, across his loose belt buckle, and finally his fingers wrapped around the redheads rock hard cock, and began to tug it swiftly.

Badou hissed appreciatively, his hands curling around Heine's hips while his mouth made the downward plunge to the faithful bandages around the albino's neck. "_Fuckingshitballs_…" Was it just him, or was it getting increasingly hot in here?

Heine took a sharp breath in through his nose and gave Badou's cock a few loose pumps. "Hey, dip shit."

Badou let out a strangled sound that could be considered an answer, tightening his grip on Heine's hips, his own hips automatically rolling forward into the albino's warm hand.

"Do something you lazy fuckhead," Heine growled, clearly annoyed that after all the trouble for this retarded one eyed butt pirate, all the _Ohoho, Heine-kun, I never even dreamed you had it in you! I believe you'd look fetching in this little number. Why don't you try it on for me? What, whats the point when I'm blind? Well. Just do it any way, _this fucking bastard was going to just sit there and expect him to do all the work? _Oh fuck no. _

"If you don't stick it in me right now, I'm gonna go to Bishop a-"

Heine was halted from further damning himself with a complete sentence, his hand was wrenched from Badou's cock and strong hands lifted him up, before slamming him down on aforementioned cock. He yelped, eyes snapping shut, and his arms wound themselves around Badou's neck, hands buried in fireenginered hair. "_ffffuck_…warn a guy next time, will you?" He panted, nipping at Badou's ear for good measure.

Badou could only snicker in return, too far gone with the tight, wet heat engulfing his need, and he bucked his hips up, drawing matching moans from the both of them.

"Shut the fuck up and enjoy the ride, will ya, zombiefuck?" He wheezed, smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Ride, huh?" Heine mused, a thoughtful expression masking the lust on his face. He brought his hips down to meet Badou's, leaning forward to lick a blazing trail across the redheads jaw. "I'll ride you into the sunset. Like a stallion."

There was a pause, filled only with the sounds of their breathing and the slap of skin on skin.

"That's a real turn off, man. Seriously."

"Yeah, then why'd your cock just twitch inside me?"

"B-because…that was the wind."

"The wind. Inside my ass. That makes se-"

Badou promptly shut his partner up, crushing their mouths together in a bruising kiss, teeth clacking, his own foggy mind thankful for their perverted priest. For once.

* * *

OMAKE

_Heine deposited Badou's limp form non-too-gently onto the ratty couch, lifted the redhead's ankles and plopped himself down onto the opposite end, pulling his partners bare feet into his lap. _

_He shot the redhead a menacing glare. "This better not be permanent." _

_Badou scowled right back full force. "Oh gee, I'm so sorry that you got hit with shitty paralysis serum, Badou, what EVER can I do to help you onto the fuckin __road to recovery__?" _

_Heine sighed wistfully. "If only it had paralyzed your annoying ass voice instead." _

"_Har fucking har, asshole. You're not the one who can't even light your own goddamn cigarette." Badou joined in with an unmistakably dejected sigh of his own. "We can't even fuck now," he whined, cigarette-less lips stooping into a pout. [The old lady was afraid he'd choke without the use of his hands to guide the cancer stick, so the poor lad was off them until his body had kicked the serum] _

_Heine blinked, then regarded his partner with a cool expression, bordering the thin line into anger. "Badou. We both have holes." _

"_Well yeah, no shit, you can probably ride me. But I can't even feel my cock, so it'd be a waste of time."_

"_No, I mean you have one too." Heine was sorely tempted to pluck one of the tattered throw pillows at his side and smother the stupid bastard out of his [and his __own__] misery. _

"_A cock, sure, what's your point, stupid?" Judging by the single raised crimson eyebrow, Badou didn't quite get it. Not that Heine was terribly surprised. _

_Heine finally tossed his hands up and snarled, "You have a fucking ass hole too, you dumbass!" _

_There was a sort of awkward pause as Badou gazed at Heine as if he had two heads instead of one._

"_You're not stickin anything up my poop chute, queer-o." _

_Unfortunately for Badou, Heine already had the green, pickle speckled boxers flying off one ankle and then slipping into a heap on the floor, just as the albino settled between his legs. _

_Heine smirked around the two fingers in his mouth, extracted them with a pop, and then leaned forward. Badou knew what was to come, and he wasn't going to lay back and take it like a pussy. _

"_OH FUCK, UH, RAPE! RAAAAAPE! SOMEBODY HELP, THIS ALBINO ZOMBIE IS GONNA STICK HIS JOHNSON UP MY BUTTHOLE! SOMEBODY SAVE MEEEE! I'LL GIVE YOU A BOX OF CONDOMS IF YOU DO! HELLLPPPP MEEEEEEE!" _

_Badou felt a burning sensation blaze up his entrance just as a pair of surprisingly soft lips sealed his. _

"More faggy shit, yadda, yadda, yadda, and **that **my dear zombiefuck, is the only way, shape, or form you will ever top Badou Nails," Badou finished with the smug air of someone who had just clarified a great mystery. He paused to blink and gloat with a congratulatory cigarette, and in that fraction of a second there was a flash of murder in those crimson eyes, a white fist looming for his face, and then, pain and blackness exploded across his vision.

He later awakened to find himself chained in the bath tub with his boxers stuck on his head, those crimson eyes now predatory and coupled with a maniacal smirk.

"……Fuck."

"You? Don't mind if I do."

* * *

As promised, this omake is for Ryeko-Dono, an extremely generous review giver, of which I don't deserve really. Sorry it took so fucking long, man!

Anyway. God. It has been a privilege and a fucking pleasure to write this. You guys are my guiding light, you know? Sorry, I'm a goddamn sap. But just. Knowing that you guys wanted more, and enjoyed it touched me in ways (not in my pants, necessarily) you can't even realize. Okay, its sounding like I'm retiring. 's not right. I hope to be drawn into some more Dogs stories in the future. I love you guys, and thanks, for everything!

Hugs and kisses,

KinkyEyepatchShit ;3


End file.
